


EVA Sessions: You Can (Never) Trust

by Gob_Hobblin



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Evangelion - Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 58,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1517150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gob_Hobblin/pseuds/Gob_Hobblin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The United States send a homegrown EVA and Pilot to Tokyo-3. Slowly but surely, the mission brings with it unnamed threats, tension, and the strangeness of the unnerving American Pilot. Shinji, Asuka, and Rei will find themselves tested not only by the Angels beyond the walls, but by the Devils that reside within. Beta-read and edited by Gemini011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The So-Called Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Up to this point, I've been an exclusive user of FF.net, which is a site I greatly enjoy. That being said, I wanted to ensure that there was an extra-layer of protection for my stories (rather than relying on a single site to keep them up). Further, I felt that by transitioning them from one site to the next, it would force me to do the serious editing I've needed to do on them for a long time now. So this will be the first story I translate over.
> 
> Neon Genesis Evangelion is the associated property of Hideaki Anno and GAINAX studios. There is one other property used for inspiration (loosely) in this story...which I cannot address because I don't like giving unintentional spoilers. That being said, they have their rights protected, too: the use is small and subtle, and those rights are still respected (I mean, it's a fan work...I don't really plan on profiting on this anyhoo).
> 
> Thanks for your indulgence, and I hope you enjoy EVA Sessions: You Can (Never) Trust.

"Why the hell do these things have such complicated names?" Tate Gunner asked, dropping the packet and glaring at his guest. The guest said nothing, inscrutable as always. Tate had just finished reading the account of the Pacific Fleet's encounter with Gaghiel, and the performance of the Second and Third Children in subduing the creature. "Gaghiel? Gag...I don't understand this. Who the hell thought this crap up, anyway? Explain the convention here, Kafkutz."

Mitchell Kafkutz shrugged. "They did pretty well for themselves, considering they were out in the middle of the ocean." He didn't address Tate's comments or question, and Tate suspected the man thought it beneath him. "In fact, we should count our lucky stars. It was advantageous the attack happened," he continued, which in itself was true. Tate leaned back, and closed his eyes in thought. It had opened a valuable opportunity for them to get a leg up on things in the world,  __ especially _ _ in regards to Seele and Nerv. Despite being the National Security Adviser, Tate should not have known anything about Seele at all, much less its intentions or plans. They had kept their presence a secret, and done so with enviable talent. And yet, Tate did know. He knew a great deal of things he was not supposed to, now. A lot of people high up the federal government knew, and they were working hard to play catch-up.

It had been a busy month.

"So, Mitch…you've heard."

"The Prime Minister of Japan made a request for Grendel, and its Pilot, in light of the increased Angel attention to Tokyo-3," Mitchell Kafkutz said in a matter of fact tone. The Adviser knew better than to try and hide things from him; he was, in fact, the source of a great deal of the knowledge that Tate possessed.

"Which allows us to finally insert our own asset into Nerv's GeoFront," Tate said. "Is the boy up to it?"

"The boy has been trained for something like this," Kafkutz replied. "He was part of the old Deveraux Initiative. Remember that one? After the Second Impact?" Tate grimaced, standing to pace. He felt uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"Child soldiers. I don't know why we started that." Tate was a former Naval officer, and he had very _specific_ ideas about how things were supposed to be. It was said that to have morals was a hindrance to a proper Security Adviser these days, but Tate had ignored that bit of advice. Child soldiers were a repugnant reality, and for the United States to use them...that bothered him.

"He's well trained, and intelligent. He's the proper age as the others, but he has shown a greater…maturity in making necessary decisions. We can trust him," Kafkutz insisted.

"Tell me about him."

"Samson Creed. That's the name we gave him, his birth name is irrelevant. He was raised at Fort Carson, top marks in all fields. Hand to hand, tactical decision making, language retention skills...he will be a good asset."

"Loyalty?"

"Unquestioned. He's been conditioned, tested, proved. Samson will do what is required of him."

Tate grimaced. "I hate to ask, but does he have a military rank?"

"NATO O-3. We say he's in the Army, but that's just for simplicity's sake. I would advise keeping up that cover story...especially in regards to the Second Child."

Tate looked at him quizzically, and Kafkutz continued, "The Second Child is competitive. Self-esteem issues, superiority complex: either a narcissist or histrionic, we don't have the resources to determine which. She ranks her importance based upon her position to others. We have two options: craft an identity for the boy that makes him nonthreatening and passive, or make one that puts him out of her league. If we go the first route, he might not have the influence we desire. It's better to take a risk with the second option.” Tate said nothing, and turned to his window, seeing nothing in particular.

"Then we have the Third Child,” Kafkutz continued. “Now, him? About as assertive as a rodent, and just as eager to prove himself. He might provide a way in, so to speak. Get him impressed on our asset, that sort of thing. The only wild card, really, is the First Child. She is…difficult to read. No personality whatsoever that we can observe. Bland and blank, there. By introducing a Pilot who is important and assertive…that will egg on all of those points. Subvert the performance of the Second, bring the Third around and possibly give us a _second_ asset...we don't know about the First. We have to play that by ear. Either way, he'll hammer the hell out of their problems, that's for sure. That could be advantageous to us."

"Why is that?" Tate asked, wanting to see the thread of Kafkutz's thinking. He understood the reasons Kafkutz had just given, but it felt as though there was more beneath the surface.

"He'll introduce and aggravate neuroses in these children that will erode and hinder their abilities, thus their use to Nerv. In turn, his importance will increase."

"Which means he will have more responsibility, more trust, and thus a better position to provide us with intelligence," Tate said, seeing the strategy and not liking it. He hated using children as tools. "That will be very obvious."

"Not as much as you think. Ideally, once they see the ploy, it'll be too late to act on it. He'll be positioned well enough that it would be more damaging to remove him than to leave him in place. And he will have help, remember that: because of the Vatican Treaty, Japan can only have three EVA units. Grendel will therefore be a completely American mission, allowing not only a loophole in the treaty, but giving us a good support network to watch the boy."

Tate rocked in his chair for a moment. "Japan...is  __ still _ _ an ally...." he murmured.

"We don't want to spy on Japan. We want to spy on Nerv," Kafkutz pointed out. That was slicing things a bit fine, and it was a doubtful the Japanese would see it quite like that, but...still....

It  _ was _ a risk…but a worthwhile one. The appearance of the Angels did not end the Great Game, and now that Japan and Germany were the new power players on the block, the United States had to act appropriately. Especially because that power was based on something so...unfathomable. And bolstered by third-party actors that the leadership of the United States did not entirely trust.

Tate had to consider that, in light of the world's current balance of power. He closed his eyes, picturing the globe. Picturing the actors. Picturing the United States in it all....

To say the United States had suffered from the Second Impact wouldn't have been  _ entirely _ inaccurate, but to say that it hadn't benefited wouldn't be true, either. It had already been an astronomically powerful country…annexing the whole of Canada had doubled the size of the republic, as well as returned it to the status of hyperpower that it had maintained prior to Second Impact. It had given them remarkable leeway when dealing with the recently assertive UN, as well as the other Nerv Pact countries. It enjoyed a level of prominence matched only by Germany and Japan  __ combined.  _ _ _ The power those countries enjoyed _ was surely due to Seele, though...that shadowy  _ other _ that had lurked to their attention.

If you didn't know what it was, you shouldn't poke it. Sometimes, however...you had to jab a bear to learn it was a bear. Seele may not be an overt threat...but they didn't appear especially friendly the way they worked, either.

Besides...something in the way they operated made Tate just plain _uneasy_. It was the kind of nervousness that encouraged him to make leeway where his scruples were concerned.

"All right," he sighed, "It'll be worth it to see if we can deduce the intentions of Seele and…if they should be counteracted upon. I'll advise the President to go ahead with it."

"Thank you, Tate."

* * *

Dr. Julian Sefka received the news from Kafkutz with the outward appearance of calm. Truly, though, it awoke a wave of unease in him. It shouldn't matter, because he would do as the Group required of him. But, still….

He was always afraid to see the _boy_. He walked down the hallways of the dormitory, pushing that fear into a box. He would see the _boy_ , share the news, and leave. Leave and let others handle it. Others with less insight into the child, and less reason to fear him. He came upon the dormitory room, leading into the only occupied apartment on this entire floor. Aside from rooms at either end filled with guards and listening devices, no one was on this floor…no one but the _boy_. Sefka made a fist with a convulsive hand, then opened the door.

"Samson?" he asked, entering the room. The child was not there, but the bathroom door was open, and the light was on. Sefka stepped into the bathroom. The _boy_ lay in the tub, along with as many bags of ice he could cram in with him. "Hello, Samson," Sefka said quietly, "Are you too warm?" Samson gave him an unreadable look, bland and mechanical. Other than that, he said nothing. His hair was black and cut in a military style. His eyes were gray, and seemed devoid of anything one could call human. Despite that, they seemed…curious. Inquisitive. It was the only flicker of emotion on the still face.

"The President has agreed to send Grendel to the Japanese," Sefka continued, still standing in the doorway. "That means you will go as well."

"To be expected," the _boy_ replied. It was a young voice lacking inflection, but something beneath it made Sefka feel an undeniable fear. Whether it was a fear of the _boy_ , or something deeper, an awe…he couldn't say. As far as he knew, he was the only one who felt it. Of course, he also knew more about Samson than most would. "When do I leave?"

"Two weeks," Sefka said. He stepped into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat. "Samson," he added, in a casual tone, "Do you remember…our little talk?"

"About the Group," the boy said, sitting up in the tub. He was fourteen, but he was not built like a fourteen year old should be. He had muscle mass that was well defined, well cut…and greatly more substantial than a child his age  __ should _ _ have. On anyone else, it might appear attractive, but for Samson, it seemed…unsettling. Out of place. Unhealthy, even.

"Yes," Sefka said, feeling a bead of sweat on his forehead. "Yes, Samson, the Group. Do you remember what the Group wanted?"

Samson seemed to look through the doctor, going to someplace only he could perceive. "Adam?" he asked, his voice suddenly childlike.

"Yes, yes, Samson. Good boy, _bright_ boy. You need to find Adam."

"That wasn't all," Samson added. His expression and tone never changed, but there was an ugly note under it. No…a sardonic one. A sadistic note, even. "There was…other concerns."

Sefka swallowed, and continued. "There are three children at Nerv HQ, Samson. A boy and two girls. They are also Pilots. Samson…" Sefka slid off of the toilet, to the floor and on his knees. His hands trembled as he placed them on the edge of the tub, and a hint of pleading lay under his voice. "Samson…the boy  __ must _ _ survive. Do you understand? No harm can come to the boy."

"The girls?"

"Samson, focus now. The boy…must…survive."

Samson seemed to come back to himself. "The boy must survive." Sefka nodded vigorously. "And of the two girls? What is their importance?" The questions were casual.

"There is one with blue hair. She also  __ must _ _ survive. Do you understand?"

"The boy and the blue haired girl…they must survive. And the  __ third _ _ one?"

Sefka gritted his teeth, and said, hesitantly, "Just ensure…the boy and the blue haired girl…survive." Samson smiled slightly, and Sefka had to ball his hands into fists to keep them from shaking harder. "Ah…in the two weeks…before you go…" he whispered, "We will…be educating you. Do you understand? There are…elements of your…personality. They need… _minor_ adjustment. To keep Nerv from…asking questions."

"I understand, Dr. Sefka," Samson replied, his smile melting away, but somehow still there.

"I knew you would. You're a good boy, Samson. I'm very proud of you." He stood on shaky legs, if only to allow himself to leave with more dignity than crawling would allow. "If you are too warm, please tell me. We can arrange to cool you down."

"Thank you, Dr. Sefka. You are very kind to me," Samson said, sinking back into the tub among the ice bags. Sefka nodded, backing out of the bathroom. He closed the door, and fled the room, relieved beyond words.

 


	2. The Devil You Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I should take this opportunity (not a lot of room in the last one) to mention my beta-reader and editor is Gemini011. He has, by far, been one of the key elements in making this story as good as it is, with his observations, edits, and suggestions. The little blurb in the story summary is not enough to emphasize what a great help he has been.

Shinji was scared of Asuka.

He was also irritated, aggravated, enraptured, and _fascinated_ by her, but mostly he was just plain scared. He was scared of that look she gave that made him feel meek and small. He was scared of those strange, non-sequitor turns their conversations took. Most of all, he was scared of the occasionally violent outbursts she was capable of, like the one she was in the midst of right now.

He wasn't entirely sure of what she was screaming about, as it was mostly in German with a smattering of English, but she had thrown a hair dryer at him and cut his scalp. He cowered at the table as she continued to rage about…something, before retrieving the hair dryer and retreating into her room, sliding the door shut. He glanced over at Pen-Pen, who looked indifferently back, and went to his room, his scalp still bleeding.

She had only been here a short while, and in that time she had completely derailed the tenuous semblance of a normal life Shinji had built for himself. It wasn't the best life, but it was still his, in a way. Now, _she_ was here, in this apartment, bringing with her storm and confusion and lust….

His heart beat fast as he thought about her. She was a beautiful girl, probably the prettiest he had ever met. She wasn't the soft, enigmatic mystery that was Rei, but she was a fiery, burning ball of emotion that ate at him. She scared him, this was true. And yet…he liked the way she scared him. It was not the same fear he felt when inside Unit One. And that scared him even more, because he didn't understand it. It made no sense to him, and rather than address it and study it, he ignored it. He ignored it as he did with most things in life, assuming that it would go away.

He heard her pacing in her room, and felt a warm trickle down his nose. He didn't touch the blood, instead letting it run as an intense feeling of self-loathing washed over him. He felt pathetic when she got angry at him, mostly because he felt it was his fault. It had to be; why else would anyone get angry with him if it  _wasn't_  his fault? And it was made worse by his inability to find a way to fix it. He lay down on his bed, hating himself, hating the world, hating his father, hating life for all its wonder, as the evening sun slipped down and away and left his room a pink glow to match his moroseness.

* * *

As he slept, his dreams were feverish. He was sitting at a table in a field, across from...someone. He couldn't make them out specifically, except that they were male. Very male, with defined musculature. The features were not there, but the _smile_ was. It was a Chesire Cat smile, too big for the face and too many teeth for the mouth. It looked like it was an attempt to be friendly, but it made Shinji think of eating. Something...eating, always _eating_. Maybe eating him. He shuddered in his sleep.

"Better the Devil you know, my dear," the shape said, without moving its mouth. "Better the Devil you know, lovely thing. You'll know the Devil, you'll know him well. Better to know him, dear, love, tidbit." The smile continued to widen, going up and around the head until it connected in on itself like a circle of ivory. The many rows of teeth cracked together, making an electric and metallic sound.

"Better to know me, better to know me, better to know me…," it chanted.

* * *

When Shinji awoke the next morning, he smelled cooking...which meant Misato was up and playing house mom. He knew, without consciously deciding it, that he would be eating cereal for breakfast. He sat up to see that he had gotten blood on his pillow case. That meant it was still on his face, which meant Misato would ask questions he wouldn't answer. So, as quickly as he could, he slipped out of his room and hurried through the kitchen and into the bathroom before Misato could turn away from the stove. Thankfully, Asuka was still sleeping, so he didn't have to fight for access.

He washed his face and thought of his dream. "Better the Devil you know," he mumbled, and felt ill saying the words. He had had vivid dreams before. Ugly, nasty things, full of shadows and squirming, but this was a strange breed of dream. It seemed to peer at him from the mirror, with those words…and those teeth…teeth everywhere. "Better the Devil you know," he said in a louder voice, staring at his face. He peered back blankly, and he grinned maniacally at himself, the reflection responding obediently. It repulsed him, and he left the bathroom feeling jittery.

"Good morning!" Misato sang, as Pen-Pen watched Shinji with what could only be described as contempt. He was entirely too spoiled on Shinji's cooking, and any time Misato was allowed near the stove, it was no less than cowardly treason as far as Pen-Pen was concerned. Shinji shrugged helplessly at the penguin, and grabbed a box of rice cereal and a bowl.

"Hey, don't you want a hot breakfast?" Misato asked, pouring some beer into the skillet. It was only nine o'clock on a Sunday, and already she was drinking?

"I'm not very hungry," he said, and that was the truth.

"Still getting used to the new roommate?" she asked, a teasing note under her words.

"I had a nightmare," Shinji blurted, then bit his tongue. He did  _not_  want to talk about Asuka, and had said the first thing on his mind, which happened to be the second thing he did not want to talk about, either. Misato gave him a concerned look.

"A nightmare? About what?"

"Just…weird stuff…," he stammered. "You know…nightmare…stuff."

"A nightmare, huh?" Misato mused. "You sure it wasn't one of _those_ kind of dreams? I mean, you do have two _attractive_ women in the house," she said, leaning away from the stove in a seductive manner. Shinji blanched, and focused intently on his cereal.

"It wasn't a dream like that at all!" he whined. "Why do you have to be like that? Geeze!"

" _Why is everybody so loud in this apartment!?_ " Asuka screamed, slamming her door open. Clearly, she was not a student of irony. She stalked into the kitchen, and perused what Misato was cooking.

"What is that?" Asuka asked, squinting her eyes at the skillet.

"Sausage, hamburger, bacon, cornflakes, eggs, sugar, a little coffee,  _lots_  of curry, and beer for flavoring!" Misato said cheerfully. Asuka had no words for that, and simply took a bowl and sat at the table, taking the box of cereal and pouring some for herself. "You're both no fun!" Misato snapped, stirring the mess. "Actually," she said, switching gears with a rapidness that continued to catch Shinji off-guard, "I'm glad you're both up. Word is we have a new Pilot coming in."

Asuka looked up, and Shinji could have sworn her expression was one of fear. Before he could place it, it took a bland indifference. The change was so quick, he doubted he had seen any other look on her face. "Oh?" she sniffed diffidently, "Why? You already have me. That should be  _more_  than sufficient, especially with the Idiot here." She jabbed a spoon in his direction. She still refused to acknowledge Rei as a thing that existed, and as far as she was concerned, the only Pilots were her (in her lofty heavens), and Shinji, who was an idiot but lucky. Very lucky.

"The Prime Minister got nervous after the whole thing with the Sixth Angel, so he asked the Americans to send over Grendel," Misato explained, heaping a big portion of her…whatever-it-was onto a plate.

"Grendel?" Shinji asked.

"Don't tell me you don't know what Grendel is," Asuka sneered.

"You don't!" he snapped back, tired and cranky enough to snap back. Asuka made an ugly face, and said nothing. Shinji began to spoon the rice cereal into his mouth, regretting having said anything at all.

"Well…it…," Asuka finally sputtered, then squeaked as Misato dropped a plate messily in front of her. She slid one to Shinji, as well.

"No more protests!" she said happily, "You two need to eat up! You're all cranky. Hot food will do you good! Anyway," she said, breezing on again as Shinji felt his pores burning at the sheer aroma of curry wafting up from the mess, "Grendel is an American EVA Unit. Completely homegrown, on a small sample of Unit Zero that we loaned out. Mostly cybernetic, with just enough flesh to put up an AT Field."

She popped a beer can open, and then began digging into her food. She made a face, and grabbed a bottle of hot sauce. "They say that it's more combat effective than Unit Two is, but I don't know about that. The proof is in the pudding, they say, and it's untested. The Pilot, though…he sounds interesting. Here, it tastes better this way," she finished, giving a healthy heaping of hot sauce to both Shinji and Asuka's plates.

"Who is he?" Asuka muttered. Shinji noted that her cheeks had turned a light shade of green as she studied her plate.

"Well, he's fourteen, like you two, but…get this…he's a commissioned officer in the United States Army." Asuka looked up in that look of barely contained fear again, bordering on panic, before it vanished.

"That can't be right…it would take four years of training in order for someone to commission in the American military, and even then, he would have to be eighteen just to start. I don't think it's in their laws to allow that," she said, feigning smugness and not quite succeeding.

"They made a special commission for him, apparently. Signed by the President and everything."

"So it's not a  _real_  commission," Asuka said, seeming relieved. "It's just an honor, probably because he's a Pilot. A little propaganda for the Yankees to feel better."

"Don't you have American citizenship?" Shinji asked, but Asuka and Misato didn't seem to hear him.

"No, it's real," Misato said, "I had a hard time believing it myself, but they said he's to be considered a Captain. He even has a college degree, in engineering."

Asuka stared at Misato with an unreadable expression. "Can he Pilot?" she finally asked.

"That remains to be seen," Misato said with a shrug. Shinji continued to remain quiet, stirring the food in front of him. He was still unused to Asuka, and now a new Pilot was coming into the fold. He listened to her go off on some other tangent, apparently eager to change the subject to something that was  _not_  the new Pilot, and he pondered the new development. Better the Devil you know, he thought to himself.


	3. We Are All Friends

"Samson Creed," Asuka muttered, "What a stupid name."

They stood in the main loading hanger wearing their school uniforms, since that was the only thing they had remotely like actual military dress uniform. Asuka lilted to one side with her arms crossed, Shinji slouched, and Rei stood stock still as usual. She showed the barest awareness of happenings around her.

"It doesn't even sound like a real name," Shinji added, sounding thoughtful. "It's like an...action figure's name, or something."

"Seriously!" Asuka griped, her irritation fed and now feeding itself. "Samson _Creeeeeed_?" She made a snirking sound. "I hate him already."

"You hate everyone, it would seem," Rei said quietly, without venom. Asuka shot her a dirty look.

"Oh, look at _you_. Did someone pull your string, Wonder Girl? You're often so  _quiet_ ," she said. They had only just met, and gotten along about as well as Shinji expected them to...which was not very well. This current introduction to the team, so soon after her own arrival, had made Asuka snippy in general, and Rei was bearing the greater brunt of it than Shinji. It was most likely because she didn't seem to care. She had a tendency to make what seemed to be very frank observations around Asuka. To anyone else, they would appear to be insults, but as far as Shinji could tell, Rei was just...making observations. The irritation it seemed to draw from Asuka was just something Rei was not actively seeking. He sighed, and turned towards the massive double-doors that had been opened for the newest addition to the Paddocks. It was currently making its entrance.

"Look at that!" Shinji whispered, and Asuka turned to look in his direction. The Grendel EVA slowly trundled in on massive caterpillar treads, and it was certainly something to see. Compared to the other EVA units, it was…stocky. A bit bulkier, with less finesse in its appearance, though...somehow smaller. It was painted in swathes of a digital camouflage pattern, all teals, blacks, grays, and greens the way the Americans liked to color their gear. It  _looked_  like it was meant for fighting. A small group of individuals in green uniforms marched away from it as the massive caterpillar tractors continued on their slow, ponderous journey.

"I think that's him," Shinji said, spotting a shorter individual in the middle of the group.

"Oh, God, he dresses just like the rest of them," Asuka muttered. "This is going to be intolerable. Ooh, look at me, I get to wear a fancy uniform and drive a fancy EVA because I'm _special_."

"Seriously, what is wrong you?" Shinji sniped, as Misato walked up between them in her own Nerv khaki uniform.

"Kids, cool it," she said, all professional now. Shinji studied her, wondering how she could turn her military-self on and off like that. Asuka looked up, as though to continue protesting, but grabbed that professionalism she herself was capable of, and went quiet. The small group of American soldiers were fast approaching, and details could be made out on their uniforms.

Shinji was good at reading Roman characters, and could make out which one was Samson by the CREED name tag on his uniform. Two black bars sat in the middle of his chest and the center of his cap. The rest of the soldiers around him had a variety of ranks, mostly bars or chevrons. He didn't look out of place among them, if not for the fact he was much shorter than them. Still taller than Shinji, but shorter than an adult.

He seemed to be smirking, but his expression was blank. His eyes were steel gray like ball bearings, and about as emotive. What hair that could be seen under the cap was black. His face was...well, it could be considered handsome, if…well....

There seemed to be something under it, like it wasn't complete, or all there. Shinji couldn't put his finger on it. The boy wasn't _built_ like a boy. Toji was the most athletic boy he knew, and  _he_  didn't have a frame like that. It seemed…wrong. It pushed all of the buttons in Shinji that told him he should be wary.

Everything about the boy seemed wrong, actually. Which was weird, because he didn't  _look_  wrong. In fact, he looked handsome and well-built, almost the male physical ideal. And yet…a word of warning seemed to creep through his mind. He felt like he was meeting a tiger…or a leper. Something...either grand or diseased. It was too soon to tell, and it bothered him that he couldn't decide which it was.

"Capt. Misato Katsuragi, I presume?" one of the older soldiers said. He had a gold leaf of some sort on his uniform. He saluted as he approached, as did the crowd.

She returned the salute, saying, "Maj. Richard Ennis, it's good to meet you." Shinji had learned a little about military ranks just from osmosis, and he knew that Ennis technically outranked Misato. By virtue of Misato's status as the Chief Operations Officer, though, she had operational authority. Still, _she_ should have saluted _him_ , regardless of that. The American had beat her to the punch, though. It could be argued to be politeness, recognition of her authority here. One or the other.

It also felt feigned, for all its warmth. Shinji felt an immediate wariness of this group that extended out from this Creed child and seeped through the rest of the soldiers. He tried to place it, but Misato was still talking and he found himself focusing on her. "Allow me to introduce the other Pilots. At the end is the First Child, Rei Ayanami. Next is the Second Child, Asuka Langley Soryu, and finally, Shinji Ikari, Third Child." Shinji swallowed nodding at his introduction but saying nothing. Asuka gave everyone an arrogant look, and Rei just stared straight ahead, seemingly uninterested.

"It's good to meet all of you," the Major said. "This is Capt. Samson Creed, who will soon be Fourth Child."

"Pleasure to meet you all," the boy said in a voice that sounded…too _old_ for him. It was a boy's voice, but _not_ a boy's voice, and the...unreality of him jumped at Shinji. He detected Rei's attention coming back to Samson, a slow turn of the head. He risked a glance at Asuka. She was bristling like a terrier, her chin stuck out.

Misato nodded, and the Major went through introductions for the rest of his command team. There were something in the range of over a hundred American service personnel attached to the Grendel, and these were simply those in charge. Shinji ignored the introductions to focus on Samson. The boy watched the Major with a sidelong expression, and the smirk on his face became more pronounced. The more Shinji looked, the more he felt he wasn't looking at a boy…just…something pretending to be a boy.

Before he could decide what this Samson really was, a klaxon blared. "Emergency, emergency," a voice called. It sounded like Lt. Ibuki. "Incoming Angel. All personnel, report to your duty stations immediately." Samson looked up curiously, and the soldiers braced. It was the posture of people used to responding to emergencies, but unsure of what to do now without a protocol to guide them.

"I guess this will have to cut introductions short," Misato said. "I'm afraid you'll have to see to docking Grendel yourself. Kids," she turned to Shinji and Asuka, "Get moving." Shinji risked one last glimpse at Samson, and hurried on to the hanger, Asuka almost gleeful at the prospect of the Angel.

As they all ran, Rei continued to stand where she was, watching long and hard after Samson as he walked away with his team. Then, slowly, she turned and followed the rest of the Pilots.


	4. Tension in the Palace

"Well… _ that _ was embarrassing."

Misato turned the photo on its side, and shook her head. No matter how she held it, she couldn't find a good angle to process the double-composite image of Units One and Two. Both of them had their feet jutting out of the water and the earth, like cartoons. It was humiliating, ridiculous…and a little bit funny. Not that she was laughing, of course. Not with the Americans newly arrived. It was bad enough having the whole country call out Nerv on this little issue, but with guests in the wings…especially guests arriving on the implication that Nerv  _ couldn't _handle_ the situation _ ….

She snorted, and rolled her eyes. She had to figure this thing out with Shinji and Asuka quick. Shinji was so passive, Asuka was so forceful…and both of them were going to have to find some middle ground if they were going to deal with this new Angel.

"Interesting reading you've got there," someone murmured in her ear, and she turned red. It could have been a blush, and it could have been fury. Misato settled on fury.

"Piss off," she mumbled, tossing the photos onto her desk.

"That's not very neighborly," Ryoji Kaji teased, plopping onto the countertop. He was always so confident…it was one of the features that made him so attractive to Misato, and one of the things that made her want to taser him into incontinence at this very moment. He picked up the photo she had dropped. "Seems the Children are off to a rough start."

"You figure all that out on your own?" she snapped, her eyes closed. It allowed her to hang on to her venom a bit easier. When she looked at him, she had too many confusing, conflicting emotions rattling through her brain.

"I figured that out when I first saw them together," he said. Which was probably true: he was confident for a reason. People were kind of like books to Kaji.

_Jack-ass._

"I bet our Yankee friends are making this a little frustrating to deal with, as well," Kaji added. Misato suddenly groaned and leaned forward, piling her head into her arms. She couldn't stay angry…not when she had so much irritation to vent.

"You'd think I'd be  _ happy _ to have the help!" she whined, her voice muffled by her arms. "I'm not, though…I just can't read these people." She sat up, looking at Kaji. "I've worked with the American military before, but  _ these _  folks…I don't know, they seem oily for some reason."

"You got that impression, too?" Kaji asked. His smirk was gone, and his tone was all business. The switch surprised Misato, but also made him infinitely easier to deal with.

"How could I not?" she said. "Especially that kid…what's the _deal_ with that kid?"

"Little wunderkind like our Asuka," he said, "Maybe more so. Do you know of any children commissioned as officers in a First World military establishment?" He jerked a thumb as if gesturing to someone down the hall. "They almost did the same thing with Asuka, but I shot the idea down."

"What? Why?" Misato crossed her arms under her breasts, fixing Kaji with quizzical stare. Kaji gave her a withering gaze back.

"Seriously? I have to explain it?" he asked. "This is  _ Asuka _ we're talking about." Misato rolled her eyes, and held her hands up in surrender. The girl was smart… _ too _  smart. And she knew it. If there was one thing that the girl had too much of, it was an ego, and the  _ last _  thing she needed was one more club to beat over the heads of anybody and everybody in earshot.

"All right, fair enough," she conceded. "Which brings me back to  _ this _ ." She snatched the photo from Kaji, and he made a small noise of protest. She had cut the web of his hand yanking the picture away. As he sucked indignantly at the wound, she began tapping the photo with a thumb. "We've got a week, a  _ week _  before the Seventh Angel regenerates, and I don't know what to do."

"Obviously, you have to hit both halves at the same time," Kaji said through his hand.

" _ Obviously _ , but I need these two  _ nitwits _  to play nicely with each other in order to do it," she said.

"You could have both of them attack one core, and sortie Grendel against the other half," Kaji suggested. He regretted it almost immediately. It wasn't that Misato looked angry, but she looked like she was trying to force down a piece of rotten food. She shook her head.

"No, not if I can help it," she said. "I need a better reason to deploy the Americans, and frankly I don't…."

"Trust them?" Misato gave him a baleful look, and Kaji smiled despite himself. "Trust issues, still?"

"Shut up," she grumbled. It was a low-blow, and a talk they had had before. Many times. She wasn't about to play that game right now.

"All right, just…here, I have an idea: you know those dance games?"

"Dance…games?"

"Like in the arcade. Dance pads, you have to hit a certain pad a certain way in order to beat the game? Do it in rhythm?"

"I know what they are!" she snapped, "Why are you bringing them up?"

"Make them play one of those things all week, every hour until they're ready to fight. Hell, make them do  _ everything _  together, in reason. Make them think and sync like one person." Misato's face skewed up, and she looked around as if seeking support.

"That is…patently…one of the  _ stupidest _  ideas I've ever heard," she snapped. "However…in light of the fact that I have no  _ other _ ideas, we'll give it a shot. I mean, it's only the end of the world we're trying to prevent, right?"

* * *

"That's a stupid idea!" Asuka grated, her tone livid under the white lights of the briefing room. Shinji sat in a chair, silent as a mouse, and Misato had her hands on her hips, asserting her full authority.

"Got any other plans?" she snapped.

"Yeah, let me-"

"No."

"But-"

" _ No _ ! I know  _ exactly _  what you're going to say, and no, you can't beat this thing by yourself. Simply having Shinji or Rei act as support isn't going to do the trick, either. You and Shinji are going to work together, you're going to do  _ everything _  together, you're going to think, breathe, and act like  _ one _  person, and by God, if I have to staple you two to each other to get it done, I will!" Misato leaned over the girl and glowered. Asuka glowered back.

"Um…," Shinji ventured.

"Don't say  _ anything, _ " Asuka snapped, pointing a finger at him.

"What are you thinking, Shinji?" Misato asked, and Asuka hissed through her teeth.

"By everything…do you mean…." He waved his hands in a vague, helpless gesture. "… _ everything _ ?" Asuka was the first to pick up his implications.

"You _pervert_! No! I won't do it! I have  _ dignity _ !" she raged.

"No, you don't have to do _ … _everything_ _ …in sync, but when we're not talking showering and using the toilet, it's sync training for you!" She filed that away as one more thing she would rage at Kaji about. The fact that she actually had to have a serious discussion on strategy and tactics involving toilet habits  was enough to make her want to chuck the whole thing out of the window and call it a day.

"Or you could let me handle it." Three sets of eyes turned to the door leading into the briefing room. Samson was just inside the threshold. His uniform top had been shucked somewhere, so that he was clad only in his tan undershirt. His hands were in his pockets, and his expression looked bored.

"What?" Asuka's tone was low, flat, challenging, dismissive, and threatening all at once. Misato resisted the urge to look at the girl, impressed she could put so much  _ flavor _ into her words.

"Unit Zero is a prototype. Unit One is a test platform, hardly a full-combat weapon," he said, "And Unit Two is…well…."

"Well _what_?" Asuka snapped. "Think carefully before you finish that statement, _Hurensohn_." She had been referring to Rei and Shinji insultingly as First and Third, but she  _ refused  _ to acknowledge Samson as anything other than an outsider. They may have been "beneath" her, but the other Children were Evangelion Pilots. For better or worse, that meant they were (in Asuka's mind) a class to themselves. Samson was an interloper. Never mind the fact that she herself was an outsider. That word, whatever it meant, had become her catchword for Samson. Hurensohn. Misato decided she really should look it up.

"Unit Two, in it's design and combat abilities, is primitive compared to Grendel." His tone was even and hard to read. He withdrew a hand from his pocket and wiped his mouth, snuffling. The simple movement and the tan shirt all highlighted his over-sized muscles, and Misato felt that little warning quirk in her mind again. When she had first seen the boy, she had a hard time placing him in her mind. He looked like a boy…and a man…and it didn't really mesh which was which. Even now, he just looked so…out of place. There was something about him, his physique, that just….

She filed it away as Asuka found her voice.

"Primitive?  _ Primitive _ ?" She began to march forward when Misato gently reached out and snagged Asuka's collar. The girl still managed to pull Misato along for a few feet. "I'll show you  _ primitive _ , you stuck up, beefcake, cross-eyed-"

His brow furrowed as Misato managed to clamp a hand over Asuka's mouth while picking the girl up and turning, positioning herself physically between the boy and Asuka. Shinji watched the whole thing with widened eyes.

"Cross-eyed…?" he mumbled in confusion. He felt eyes on him, and he looked at Samson. The boy was studying him, his pose and expression disinterested.

The eyes made Shinji's skin crawl. There was something under them he didn't like.

"Thanks for the offer, Samson, but we're going to keep Grendel in reserve for this one," Misato managed, Asuka still growling curses and insults despite the hand over her mouth. "We see this as an opportunity for Units One and Two to try and form a tactical playbook. You understand, I hope?"

"Suit yourself," he said, his eyes flicking back to Misato. He smiled, an expression that seemed genuine and lacking at the same time. "Makes no difference to me. Just know that when it comes down to it, Grendel will solve any and all problems. That's what it's designed for."

"-cut you in ways you can't imag-" Asuka managed, before Misato clamped an arm around her head.

"I'll keep it in mind, Samson," Misato grated. "Thanks for the offer." Smirking, Samson left the room. Sighing heavily, Misato released Asuka, who began gasping for breath.

"What was the idea!?" Asuka growled. "You were smothering me!"

"Please… _ please _ …try to play nice with our American guests," Misato said. "And maybe I won't smother you." She turned and looked at Shinji. "Shinji? Shinji," she said. The boy had checked out for the moment,

"Baka!" Asuka snapped. Shinji flicked his eyes back to them. "Wake up! You're being spoken to!"

"Um…sorry." He blinked, as if he had woken up. "What's…what do you…?"

"Stop talking, and let's go home before you give yourself a headache," Asuka sighed. "If we have to do this--" she swallowed, visibly gathering herself, "-- _ plan _ …then we might as well get started as soon as possible. I can't believe we're doing this…." She continued to bemoan and bewail her situation, pushing Shinji out the door as he in turn protested the way she was manhandling him. Misato suppressed a smile as the two left, knowing that this could all become very wearying. She rubbed her forehead, running the situation through her brain. She would pick up the game system in a few minutes, then deposit it at the apartment, once she was sure things were under wraps here.

As she left the briefing room, she instinctively glanced left, and then right for that American boy, as though he had slipped into the room. What was it about him? His presence was rankling all of her military instincts at the Unknown, the _Other_ , and she couldn't decide if it was a danger or mundane. She shook her head, hoping that whatever it was pestering her, it would reveal itself, and soon.

* * *

"This equipment package is of the charts," Dr. Ritsuko Akagi murmured, running her eyes over the inventory. All the equipment associated with the Grendel unit were being cycled into the Nerv-Tokyo stores, despite severe protest from certain American quarters on issues of secrecy.

Currently, she was looking over the shoulder of Maya Ibuki, computer technician and one of the key personnel in Operations' Command Staff.

"Half of these weapons look like they were meant for something else," she said. "Look at this one: Grendelsbane? That's a full-scale railgun. I heard that was supposed to be mounted on the newest generation of American aircraft carriers."

"Those are the only ships with N2 reactors sufficient for powering a device like that," Ritsuko said. "It wasn't feasible before Second Impact. Put an extinction level event into play-"

"-Merry Christmas, defense industry," Shigeru Aoba said through a smile. Another one of the computer technicians, he, Maya, and a third technician named Makoto Hyuga (currently on site as the Grendel Package was processed through) formed the core of the Operation Command Staff.

"Some of this stuff…I can't tell if it's more advanced than what we have, or is just plain different," Maya mumbled. She coughed a bit as Ritsuko exhaled a breath of smoke, but didn't pull back. The scientist was fixated on the screen, and unaware of the rudeness of her action.

"A little of column A, a little of column B," she said, "We had to form a lot of our arsenal from scratch. They already had some of these devices in the planning or theoretical stages well before we did. I can tell you that the musculature for their Eva is significantly more primitive than ours. It's why so much of it is mechanical: it had to compensate." Not that she had been told anything of the sort…Ritsuko had deduced that on observation alone. So much of Grendel was being kept from her and her staff that she  _ had _  to guess. It irritated her immensely.

"That might make it better than what we have," Aoba said with a smirk, as he rolled up next to them. He couldn't resist playing devil's advocate. Ritusko glanced at him, and the coffee mug still in his hand. She dropped her cigarette into it, the most eloquent retort she could think of. "Oh, come on, really?" he asked in disgust.

"Machines can only compensate for so much. In the end, it can still break down: it doesn't matter beyond its ability to project and penetrate an AT Field. That's what will make Grendel useful or not," she said, smiling gently. Aoba shrugged, pouring his coffee into the trash. Maya smiled devilishly at him, amused by Ritsuko's actions.

"What has…you know… _ he _ said about it?" Aoba asked.

"The Commander has been silent on the issue," Ritsuko said. "So I honestly have no idea what he thinks." She turned and left the Bridge, lighting another cigarette. That was a lie, of course: he might not have said anything, but Ritsuko knew exactly what Gendo Ikari was thinking. He didn't like these intruders, and he didn't like what he was getting from Section-2 on them as well. Which was, in a word, nothing. They didn't expect the Prime Minister to make his overture, and they certainly didn't expect the Americans to jump into it with both feet.

Hell, they didn't expect the Americans to actually figure out how to  _ grow _  their own Eva unit, much less factor LCL for its storage. They had done it, though, and it was a testament to what they could do when pushed against the wall. Japan should know that better than anyone…Germany, too, for that matter…but it had still surprised them when it had happened, and how quickly as well.

That bothered Ritsuko, but probably not as much as Gendo's genuine and unfiltered anger and frustration on the issue. He had done an excellent job of masking it, but it was there. Ritsuko knew, as only a woman  _ could  _ know. Much as she didn't like it, she had a certain comfort from knowing that Gendo knew all things. It was like the belief in Santa Claus for a small child, reassuring and constant. The barometer by which reality was compared. To see him be so caught off guard, and worse, to see his own reaction to  _ knowing _ he had been caught off guard made Ritsuko very uneasy. She had let feelers drift among her contacts in Seele, and the same thing had come back.

No idea. No information.

She knew that, somehow, she would have to use Magi to crack into this Grendel's processing system somehow. If she could get access to the boy, this Samson Creed, that would be even better. Somehow. As she puffed on her cigarette and wandered back to her office, Ritsuko mused, and plotted.

* * *

Grendel had been moved to its own portion of the Nerv facility, separate from the other Eva bays. Primarily, this was because Grendel was not like the other Evas, and required a completely different hanger to store and maintain. It was at least a head shorter than the others, and unless they wanted to completely submerge it, they had to place it in a chamber where LCL levels could be lowered. That meant a lower maintenance catwalk, among other things. They didn't have to completely build a hanger from scratch, but they did have to do a major amount of rework on preexisting areas. All footed by the US government, of course.

Which meant that, as far as work on Grendel was concerned, only US military personnel were allowed to get close. The ancillary equipment was one thing: that had to be moved to an area where it could be quickly and efficiently delivered to Grendel anywhere around the grounds of Tokyo-3. Maintaining a separate military mission for something like that was too difficult to plan. In the end, Nerv simply had to have control over that gear.

An individual Eva was a different story. It could be parceled away and guarded individually pretty easily, and frankly, there were certain individuals connected to Nerv that the Americans simply did not want near Grendel. Officially, that was because large swathes of Grendel were still classified. With a less pure sample of material to work with (begrudgingly given at exorbitant cost), the Eva grown was stunted, runty, and almost sickly. Massive portions of its musculature had to be cut away and replaced with latest-generation artificial protein fibers, of the kind seen in artificial limbs. Its nerves had been rewired via nano-therapy, or even by hand where they were large enough. Whereas all Evas were biological cyborgs, one could say that forty percent of any purely Nerv Eva unit was artificial. With Grendel, it was more along the range of sixty percent, even seventy. In many ways, the portions that were biological merely served as anchors for the portions that were artificial.

It meant that, at least on the charts, Grendel was faster, more durable, and more combat efficient than even Eva Unit Two, with more integrated weaponry and combat/defensive systems. It was, first and foremost, a weapon, and designed as a weapon from the ground up. On the charts, at least. In a conventional Eva-to-Eva setting, Grendel  _ might _  come out on top. That was assuming a lot of things came into play, in favor of Grendel.

That also was not counting for the presence of an AT Field. To be frank, Grendel had never fought an Angel. There was no telling what it would do when faced with that kind of an opponent. Further, there was more to an Eva than weaponry: there was the Pilot. Grendel was in many ways more advanced than its counterparts, but it was also more primitive in other respects. The Entry Plug utilized by Grendel was not a cockpit, but a chamber, where the Pilot was more or less free-floating and stabilized in place with a complicated system of wires, LCL pressure, and gyroscopic restraints. This was because the Pilot of Grendel was meant to  _ be  _ Grendel…his movements were mimicked and mirrored by Grendel on a grand scale with slave circuitry.

As a result, the Plug Suit for Grendel was a full-body affair, including an integrated headpiece to allow the Pilot to "mate" with Grendel's head. This seemed advanced, from the outside, but one needed to look just under the surface to realize how primitive it was. The Nerv Evas didn't use that system because they didn't _have_ to. Synchronization in a Nerv Eva was done from a couch-like crash pad, and maneuvering was, ostensibly, done via two over-sized butterfly joysticks. The fact that the kind of maneuverability, finesse, and combat agility an Eva was capable of from such a system demonstrated how advanced that system actually was. Grendel had a very well-designed and overly complicated Pilot system, because they didn't have the know-how to create something  _ more simple _ . It was like the old joke of the American space program spending thousands of dollars on designing a pen that could write in the absence of gravity, when the Russians instead used soft-leaded pencils.

Tit for tat.

The man known as Maj. Richard Ennis was pondering all of this as the ugly visage of Grendel glowered down at him. He wasn't really a Major, though he had left the Army with that rank before moving over to one of the Alphabet Agencies. Which was irrelevant now; this was a joint operation, and his job was to ensure that there was a certain image conveyed by the mission. Grendel appeared to be an over-the-top machine, and Ennis had to ensure that it continued to look that way. That meant no local technicians could be allowed access to Grendel's core systems, among other things. They would probably learn enough just through communications with the unit in the field, but that couldn't be helped. All in all, Grendel wasn't the issue.

The  _ Pilot _ , however, was another story.

"Have we found him yet?" he grumbled to his aide, a man with a Sergeant First Class's rank but was, like Ennis, only former military. He had also come from the Army, before vanishing into one black-box program or another, resurfacing to assist in this little farce as Ennis' acting First Sergeant. His name was Delacroix, and he had the typical look of a man in that line of work: short, motionless, and flat.

"Not yet," the man sighed. "He slipped his escort and went wandering. He could be anywhere in the GeoFront right now."

"We should have  _ chipped _  him like I suggested," Ennis grated. Delacroix shrugged.

"The paper pushers had a point. If we could track him, _anyone_   could track him," he replied.

"I know, but this kid…do  _ you _  like the idea of an investment like that wandering around unsupervised?"

"It is what it is, boss," Delacroix murmured. Free from the eyes of Nerv handlers, they had dropped military formality. Special operations units of many stripes, civilian or military, generally eschewed such regimented behavior. "I will say that I don't like the rumors I've heard about him."

"Where have  _ you _  heard  _ rumors _ ?" Ennis growled, irritated that there might be gossip in the mission. Most of these folks  _ were _  military personnel, and not privy to the deeper aspects of what was taking place here. Worse, some were civilian personnel masquerading as military personnel, as there were very few military job classifications that translated easily into "cyborg demigod maintenance." The point being that _all_ of them, despite their professionalism and their patriotism, were not professional secret-keepers. It was entirely possible that some "gossip" could find it's way to ears outside of their little group. Nerv was paranoid, and the local commander was more paranoid than most. They  _ were _  being watched, and the only reason that Ennis and Delacroix spoke so freely was because they had a small static-field masking their conversation, and both had a talent for speaking with minimal lip movement.

"Of course," Delacroix said, turning into Ennis and directing his words to the man's shoulder. It would allow him a bit more freedom to talk while masking his mouth. "And not around here, if that's what you're wondering. I was in direct actions, bub, and we kept hearing about possible replacements for us. Lots of rumors…lots of nasty endings, too. Those kind of things never ended well for anyone, and I hear this kid may be the product of one of those programs. Can that end well for  _ us _ ?"

"We'll see. Speaking of playing with fire," Ennis murmured, turning his head to the left. He felt like he was being watched, and he was right. High up, there was an observation deck with a massive piece of transparent plasti-steel overlooking the hanger. They had yet to get permission from Nerv to post American MPs there, which was certainly deliberate. Right now, there was one observer, and that individual was in a school uniform with a patch of blue hair on top of her head. "I'll level with you, Top," Ennis murmured. "I get the creeps from that Samson kid, sure, but not  _ nearly _  as much as I get the creeps from her."

"Amen to that, boss," Delacroix mumbled, following the gaze. Much like he had bristled when he first met the Samson kid, Ennis had internally bristled when he saw that emotionless child. She looked like an albino, but that wasn't correct, either. Albinism didn't produce hair of that hue, or eyes of that shade. They weren't red or bloodshot…they were _crimson_ , and almost perfect in their appearance, like jewels. Further, there was no sign of blindness on the girl's part. The entire thing screamed genetic engineering, and it was so obvious and such a violation of several conventions on human genetic experimentation, Delacroix had to admire the gall of Nerv to parade her around. Sure, Samson was (most likely) a gene baby, as well…but at least they had  _ tried _  to hide it, in their own fashion. That girl was just….

He shuddered. There was something so  _ wrong _  with all of this. He had done questionable things in his life, but that was the price you paid to allow the good people of America to sleep safe and sound in their beds. Nasty men did nasty things to nasty people so good people could live their lives. Ennis knew that, and what was more, he  _ believed _  in it. This, though…this all had the taint of blasphemy around it, and for a lapsed Catholic like Ennis, that was a hard feeling to shake.

"If we don't hear from Samson in fifteen minutes," Ennis said, "grab some guys and go hunt him down."

"Anything to say to the handler?" he asked.

"No, it's not her fault. Samson's good…we should have given Merritt a better heads up, maybe more people for the escort…." He shrugged. They had to balance between appearance and security, and five guys watching their Pilot's every movement was…suspicious, to say the least. "Maybe it's better for him to wander around, poke his nose into things, make… _ friends _ , if he even understands the concept. I just want to  _ know _  what he's doing when he's doing it!"

 


	5. Midnight in the Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes from GobHobblin: I have to point out major deviations from Episode 9 and what happens here, for a few reasons. I didn't want to, point for point, mimic the show. Further, with the presence of an American delegation (and an Eva unit made clearly outside the purview of Nerv), one can assume a 'butterfly' effect. Things happen parallel, similar, but slightly different. Maybe the arrival of one person out of place affected the decisions others made. Perhaps the presence of another being made from Adam has caused erratic deviations in the Angels' behavior. Anyway, just wanted to explain why I didn't follow the show exactly.

 

"I don't like it."

Whenever Keel Lorenz said he didn't like something, people sat up and took notice. Piter DeLarey knew this as gospel, more profound and real than any of the Hebrew Books or the writings of Mohammed. He didn't know if there was a God, but he knew there was Keel Lorenz, and Keel Lorenz was enough, for some.

"No one does," he said, speaking of course for the collective group that was Seele. He had  _just_  enough knowledge of the opinions of the others involved in the group to be able to say that with a degree of truth. Even if he didn't, an idiot could guess as to the feelings of everyone involved in the project.

The Americans were meddling, and that was never good.

"The problem with an elephant in the room," Lorenz grated, "Is that when it starts to move, everyone is affected. When it's a  _blind_  elephant…." The visored man sneered. "How certain are we that they won't affect the Human Instrumentality Project?"

"All indications show that their presence won't make a difference in the long run," Piter said, "But that's saying a lot."

"And our contacts in the American government? How much do they really know?"

"Our contacts have done what they could to block any investigations into Seele and its intentions," Piter said, "And they've had a degree of success. That may be what hurts us in the end, though."

Lorenz nodded. He didn't need it explained to him: any conspiracy with the size and audacity of the Human Instrumentality Committee was bound to get some attention at some point. It was certain that such attention would be from someone who had the means to cause problems. The United States had always been a concern, as had Great Britain, China, India, Russia….

The problem with successfully hiding a conspiracy, however, is that there were those whose function and role was to be paranoid. Any successful attempts to block or redirect attention to an issue was the exact thing that would  _increase_  curiosity. Seele had been successful…and others would look.

"Still," Piter said, "We can't say how much they know. Just that… _someone_ knows  _something_. This administration, as well…someone is pulling strings that we aren't seeing."

"Another conspiracy?" Lorenz laughed, a coarse and rough sound. "Of course the United States would have its own conspiracy running things. Who is it? The Freemasons? The Illuminati?"

"We don't know," Piter said, and Lorenz's face went flat. That was a problem…more than a problem, that was frightening. For Seele to not  _know_ ….

"Any indications? Rumors?"

"Something from somewhere in their deepest, darkest hole of military secrets. I think the boy is the key."

"The Fourth Child…." Lorenz grimaced. "Who is he? Where did he come from?"

"I thought he was a stunted adult when I first saw the images on him," Piter murmured. "It would seem the kind of thing they would do, to try and slip into Nerv. And yet…I think it's more than that. I can't find any record of family, parents, anything."

"I thought there _was_ a record," Lorenz ventured. The implication was clear to Piter.

"There are the public records, those released to Nerv. I've had some of our better men working through them. They're all fake."

"Fake? Hmm. So, they're either hiding his family for purposes of security, or…or…." He smiled. "He's artificial. Built from the ground up. Oh, I like that. What programs do the Americans have that focused on genetic therapy to that degree?"

"Again, deepest, darkest hole, Chairman," Piter said. "I don't know if we'll ever actually know which program or what was involved in creating this 'Samson Creed,' but it helps to know to what extent they're invested in infiltrating Nerv."

"It also means he has a mission of his own," Lorenz mused.

"Do we tell Commander Ikari?"

"No. Share no findings with him. The day I help Ikari scratch his own back is the day I'll walk without these implants." He waved a hand in the air. "Let him figure this out on his own. He will, in time. And it will give us all the more room to maneuver if he becomes…rebellious."

"What about Grendel?"

"Grendel, Grendel…we should have never given them that sample." It was a mistake, and all conspiracies, even the best laid ones, made mistakes. The United States had made enough noise and offered enough money that Nerv was all but compelled to give them  _something_  of Adam to work with, and even then that was supposed to only be within the American Nerv branch. Somehow, it had gone from there to a DARPA facility. There was no real concern, as they were extremely poor samples. And yet…and  _yet_ …the frigging Yanks had somehow gone and grown a full Eva out of them. It strained the limits of credulity, but it had happened, and now Seele had to deal with it.

"Keep an eye on it," Lorenz continued, "They like to beat their chest about the whole thing, but I'm certain that either Unit One or Unit Two is more than a match for that can-opener. And the moment…the  _moment_ …you hear anything more about this 'boy' and his benefactors, report those findings back to me. In  _person_." Piter nodded, and left the Chairman in silence.

* * *

Toji and Kensuke had decided to give Shinji a wide berth for the week, as things were just…creepy, right now. That was their words, of course, not his. Granted, he couldn't blame them. He would be giving  _himself_  a wide berth if he could get away with it…what with the…why did Misato say they had to wear  _this_  outfit, again? Whatever the reason, he was trapped. Trapped with a girl who he was convinced had one purpose, one purpose in life, and that was to drive him crazy. Or murder him. Whichever came first.

"Oh, my  _God_ !" Asuka snapped, as they made another error _again_. As they had been all day. Things were just about as tense as they could be, and Misato had wisely decided to spend the lion's share of her time at Nerv HQ, dropping by in brief intervals to ensure that they were still working and that there were two kids still alive in the apartment. She had placed Pen-Pen in charge, which Asuka had thought of as a joke…it had become less funny when it seemed that the penguin had, indeed, taken to his role as caretaker very seriously. All in all, it was a perfect storm of stress, and it was reaching the tipping point. Even Shinji, normally pensive and withdrawn, had given into his frustrations. As good as Asuka could give, she was getting all of it back in return.

"Can you stop shouting for one minute? Or five seconds? I'll take five seconds!"

"I don't shout!" Asuka shouted. "I am _passionate_ when I speak!"

"Does everything have to be a contest with you? You have problems! You have serious issues!"

"I have issues?  _I_ have issues?"

"Yes, you have issues!" Shinji raged. Asuka opened and closed her mouth for a few seconds, surprised that he had actually stepped in and cut off her rant before she could wind up. She regained her footing, for better or worse.

"I… _you_ should look at  _yourself_! You…here you are, as a Pilot, an Eva Pilot, and all you do is whine and moan and just take it all like a brat! I am a Pilot of unparalleled talent and skill, and here I am having to try and match movements with a brainless imbecile like you."

"Maybe you wouldn't have such a hard time matching up with me if you weren't such a self-important _jerk_ who bosses everyone around!"

"Oh, right!" Asuka snapped. "You're so meek and quiet with everyone else, but you have to question and double-guess everything I do! Why is that? Huh?"

"Maybe it's because no one else drives me out of my mind! Like you! Because you're  _insane_!" he screamed, disappearing into his room and closing the door. He turned off the light and stood in the darkness, feeling his hands trembling. It was a new experience to get this angry, and he didn't think he liked it. In the midst of it, he didn't really care, but afterward…it scared him.

He was scared of being angry.

* * *

The boy slept fitfully. He had refused to join Asuka for anymore training, and he hadn't come out for dinner. He was mad, and he went to sleep mad. His dreams had been filled with meat lockers, and long lines of gurneys. On each gurney was a copy of himself, and as he walked between them, they all sat up and watched him. Their heads tracked with his movement. He wanted to run, but all he could do was walk, as each copy stared at him. Stared at him stared at him…stared…stared.

He whimpered as he woke, his ears stuffed. He had worn the SDAT headphones to bed, the player long since turned off. He didn't remember turning it off. His eyes adjusted to the dark, and wondered why he kept listening to it. He hated it. He hated the music, he hated the player. He hated his father. He hated Asuka. He hated the Eva. He hated himself. He hated it all. Why keep playing the SDAT, playing this…stupid….

Asuka was four inches from his face. Asleep. Snoring lightly. Why… _why_ …why was she  _here!_?

For a moment, he had the very real fear that he was in her bed, in her room. Slowly scanning, he recognized his ceiling, his sheets. She was  _here_ …in  _his_  bed. He felt his heart racing. She smelled…very nice. Her expensive shampoo flooded his nostrils, and he felt butterflies. No, not butterflies…a whole hurricane was in his stomach. Her lips were very close…very soft. It was strange…he was fairly certain he despised her…but she looked so _good_ up close. So pretty. So beautiful. That loathing was being replaced with desire, and he wanted to just…ever so lightly…touch those lips. He began to shift forward, trembling, closer to her. Closer….

"Ma...ma," she whimpered in her sleep.

He pulled back. She was a kid, wasn't she? She was a kid, he was a kid, they were all kids, this was just bad, bad,  _bad_. He swallowed, feeling a strange mixture of guilt and shame for wanting to kiss her, for nearly kissing her. For piloting the Eva…how was it that wanting to kiss a girl and piloting an Eva seemed to coincide in his mind?

She was a kid. He was a kid. They were children.

He wanted to get up. Get out of the bed, sleep on the floor. He started to tense, preparing to stand. He closed his eyes, and thought. He had a choice. Go back to sleep, and let her deal with it when she woke, or simply go sleep on the floor. If he did the latter, she would know that he had woken, seen her, and left her alone. He kind of wanted to. He was still angry at her.

Mama.

What if he stayed? What would happen if he…just went back to sleep? She'd yell at him. That was a fact. Though...would she? Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn't. Shinji had a tendency to be indecisive, and he knew that. He also had a tendency to make bad decisions. Stubborn decisions.

Decisions that hurt him.

The question, really, was not between choosing one action or the other, but choosing between action and inaction. One carried the chance of disaster, and the other…maybe, maybe not. He didn't know which was which.

Leave…or stay.

It was…nice having someone close by. Even if he hated her. He closed his eyes, and let himself drift back into sleep. There were no more meat lockers and gurneys.

* * *

Rei stared at the book in her hands. The clock said 1:21 AM, but she had not gone to bed. She hadn't even changed out of her school clothes for the day. She hadn't felt tired, and had sat up all night, focusing on the words. She wasn't reading them, wasn't even aware of them. They were simply something for her eyes to look at as she thought. And she had much to think about.

She had seen the American Eva, and she didn't know what opinion to form concerning it. All of the other Evas…they had a resonance, a note to them that she could hear or taste. It wasn't something she felt inclined to share with others. There weren't many things she felt inclined to share with others.

The Grendel Eva…it had no resonance. It had no note, no tone, no…being. There was something about it that seemed subdued, empty…dead even. It wasn't, and only a little more teasing had revealed the…presence under there. If it could be called a presence. It was strange, and worrying to her. She knew nothing about the boy who was supposed to Pilot it, and in truth she could care less about him. The Eva, though…the Eva….

The Eva….

Closing the book, Rei stood and walked to her window. What was there underneath that armor? She shuddered, not knowing what the motion meant, or even why she had done it.

* * *

"How long has he been like this?"

"Fifteen minutes," Ashley Merritt murmured. Ennis had been woken up at 0140, and he was irritated, but he  _had_  told the handler to bring any and all behavioral anomalies to his attention. This certainly counted as one.

The Americans had been given a secured portion of the GeoFront for use as barracks and dormitories, closed off from the rest of the facility. Before the command team and Pilot Support Staff had moved in, engineers had gone through and prepped a suite for their use. That included fitting a battery of hardwired cameras and other devices throughout Samson's quarters, for observation purposes.

At the moment, the boy had been in the process of standing up from his desk…and he had stopped. He was now halfway crouched over the table, as if frozen in time. He hadn't so much as moved a muscle for fifteen solid minutes.

"This isn't a glitch? A looped image?"

"I sent a pair of MPs down to knock on the door at thirty seconds in. The sound was registered on the feedback. As if  _that_ 's not enough, I took a look at biometrics, mass readings, and thermal imagery of the room. He's been standing there like that this entire time. I don't know if he's fallen asleep on his feet or…what." Merritt shook her head. She was an accredited Army psychologist, and given full reign in handling and observing Samson. At the same time, bizarre amounts of information had been kept from her, and she was in the dark about as much as Ennis was.

"All right, well-" Ennis began, then gasped as Samson began moving again, finishing his motion and going about his business as though nothing had happened. "The hell was that?"

"This isn't all," Merritt mumbled. "I took a look at his health readouts from when he was in the bathroom earlier. Soaked in a tub of water for an hour."

"That's not--"

"He stuffed bags of ice into the water. I don't even  _know_  how he _got_ the ice, probably stole them from the cafeteria. He was in water that leveled out at 30 degrees Fahrenheit for an hour. How does he not have hypothermia?" Ennis stared at her for a moment. There was a fantasy that had been running through his head for the past couple of days, and it involved the nameless bureaucrat that had planned this mission, duct tape, pliers, and a car battery. "Now, I have to ask again. Considering that it is a matter of record that a Dr. Julian Sefka had the most experience with Samson...why is he not here?"

"He made every effort not to come. He's also the reason we know so little about this kid," Ennis grumbled. "We've been assured he won't be a problem. I'm starting to doubt it. Oh, look." He jerked a chin back to the screen. Samson was opening the door to the bathroom, and he had stopped again, in mid-step as if frozen. "He's at it again. God, God, God…." He rubbed his eyes. "What if he starts doing this tomorrow? In public?" Ennis had certain things he had to learn from these Nerv folks, and he couldn't do that unless Samson could sell the part. If the kid started licking the paint off of the walls or chewing on the carpets, that wouldn't really endear them to anyone here.

"We'll deal with it," Merritt said, shrugging. "That's all we can do. We'll just…deal with it." When she said that, the boy's head snapped towards the pickup with a speed that made Merritt flinch next to Ennis. The boy looked around, slowly for a second, as if tracking an insect through the air. He left the door opened, and walked to his bed, where he lay down and went to sleep with the lights on.

"Yeah," Ennis said, not feeling tired anymore. "We'll deal with it. Great plan." He shook his head and left before anything else reared its head on the screen.

 


	6. Mnemonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes from GobHobblin: I once tried to use the 'I don't yell, I speak passionately' defense to my wife. It didn't work. I also lose a lot of arguments. There maybe a correlation.

"They're bickering again, they're always _bickering_ , why won't they _stop_ _ bickering _ ," Misato was mumbling under her breath, scratching furiously at her scalp. She could feel Kozo Fuyutsuki behind her, staring at the screen. How many other jobs were there where you had not one but  _ two _  bosses, and both of them were always standing less than a few feet away, watching everything? Thank God Gendo Ikari was still hiding away, moping about the Americans. Plotting, actually, but something about him  _ moping _  made Misato feel better about the situation. Not that there was much to feel better about.

They were watching the video feed, displaying the inelegant heap of Evas lying inside the crater that marked the final resting place of the Seventh Angel. The two Children blamed each other over who entangled who via their emergency comm units.

"Well, at least they succeeded against the Seventh Angel," Fuyutsuki sighed. "Now if they could just stop embarrassing us…."

"I don't think they did all  _ that _ bad," Ennis said, and Fuyutsuki bit his cheek. It was easy to forget that there were other people present these days, especially when those people tended to be so quiet. It only reminded him that the head of the American delegation was witnessing this little argument. "And they  _ are _  just kids. What do you expect them to do, act rationally?" The American shrugged, flicking his wrist. "Let them argue. They'll get it out of their system."

Misato wished that was true, as she tiredly reached over Maya's shoulder and cut the sound. These two just seemed to feed each other's fire, for better or worse. They pushed each other's buttons even when they weren't trying to, and in the end it always led to friction. She mentally winced when she realized it reminded her of herself and Kaji, in a way. Shaking  _ that _ thought out of her head, she turned to Ennis.

"I hope you aren't miffed about missing out on this op," she said, trying to sound friendly. The man shrugged.

"We don't have a terminal seconded to us yet, we haven't synced Grendel's operating system with Magi, and we haven't had a chance for the Pilots to work together. It would have been a disaster."

"Samson seemed interested in taking a crack," she ventured.

"He's a doer. If he thinks something isn't getting done, he'll want to handle it himself," Ennis said, and something about that just didn't seem true. It occurred to Misato that Ennis might not actually know the boy all that well. She had nothing but instinct to base that on, but she had instinct where it counted.

"With luck, he'll have an opportunity the next time an Angel comes around," Fuyutsuki murmured. What a laugh it would have been if Gendo had heard  _ that _ . Playing nice to the Americans was something he was determined to avoid, so he had left that to Fuyutsuki.

"We'll see," Ennis said, shrugging. He studied the image of the tangled Evas, the extraction equipment slowly moving in. Fuyutsuki studied him, the American's face unreadable, and he wondered what lay behind that mask of serenity.

* * *

"Why can't we go? It's  _ Oki- _nawa_ _ !" Asuka whined. She was looking at Shinji, expecting some sort of backup, but he watched things quietly. She could have strangled him, right there, but more important matters were at stake. Namely… _ Okinawa _ !

"Three reasons: one, because you're both Pilots, and we need you on standby in case there's an Angel attack," Misato began cheerfully, "Two: because Grendel is still not online as of yet, and we can't just say the Americans have the watch. Don't deny that  _ that's  _ what you were about to suggest, because it was." Obligingly, Asuka's mouth popped shut. "And three: these." She held up two report cards, and Asuka's mouth again dropped open. No sound came out, however. Shinji drooped his head like a turtle trying to retreat into its shell.

"Where…where did you happen to find those?" Asuka said in a false attempt at breezy innocence.

"Never try to hustle a hustler," Misato said.

"What does that mean?" Shinji asked.

"It means I'm the adult, you're the kids, and I know all your tricks before you even  _ think _  of them," she snapped through a snarky grin. "You're going to study, you're going to bring these grades up."

"But…I have a college degree!" Asuka said weakly.

"Then this will be  _ easy pickings  _ for you, won't it?" Misato said in a syrupy sweet tone. She pocketed the cards, turned on her heel, and walked away, leaving the two kids in the corridor.

"You said you hid those where no one would find them," Shinji pointed out.

"Don't try to pin this on  _ me, _ " Asuka snapped, "I wouldn't have had to if you weren't such an idiot with math."

"You were failing, too!"

"Why didn't you back me up?" Asuka retorted. Shinji blinked.

"W…what?"

"You wanted to go to Okinawa, too. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I expected this," Shinji said. "Why didn't you?" It was a question, he noted, that Asuka had no ready answer for.

* * *

Seeing their friends off had just made the sting deepen a bit before Asuka dragged Shinji back to the GeoFront. She had that determined, almost _manic_ air about her that came whenever she was putting herself in charge of something.

"There's an Olympic swimming pool in the gym down there," she said, pleased with her discovery. "I'm going to wear my swimsuits one way or the other. You need to tell me how they look."

The thought of swimming made him queasy, and he tried to protest. He wasn't a strong swimmer, and he suspected Asuka had the grace of a dolphin. It would be one more thing for her to hold over his head. Protests meant nothing, however, and she dragged him all the way there, her new suits in a duffel bag under her arm.

"Why don't we invite Rei?" he pleaded, trying to find more excuses to avoid going near dreaded water. "She didn't get to go, either."

"Did you see her when we said goodbye to everyone?" Asuka said with a sneer. "Of course not.  _ Because she wasn't there _ . She's been stuck on that new American Eva. Grendel…good grief. What a brute…nothing compared my resplendent Two! I don't know why she's obsessing over it." It occurred to Shinji, in that moment, that he  _ had _  seen very little of Rei. It had been easy to miss, with Asuka loudly in his face all the time, and it bothered him that he  _ hadn't _  noticed. There was a lot going on, and somehow in the press, Rei had been pushed out. He was not aware that she had been interested in Grendel. He was not aware of anything concerning Rei at the moment. He stopped, and was almost pulled off of his feet as Asuka continued. She turned, and stared at him.

"What?" she asked.

"Rei's one of us, right? A Pilot?"

"Well…I  _ suppose _ so."

"So," Shinji ventured, "She should be hanging out with us. It's...only right." Asuka gave him a withering look, but Shinji stood firm on it...as firm as he was capable of. She sniffed.

"Fine. Later, though. I don't want to go anywhere  _ near _  that Grendel beast to try and fetch her," she said. "Besides, I want you to tell me how I look without distractions."

"Distr…what? H-how you look?" He was confused, and a little dismayed as she started up again. They were getting closer to the pool, and he could smell chlorine. A whole litany of childhood fears bubbled to the surface at the smell.

"This is gonna be great. I can't _wait_ to hear what you have to say," she beamed, pushing open the double doors. They both slid to a stop just after passing the threshold. The American boy was there, staring at the water. Just…staring. They both stood as quietly as they could, something unspoken and mutually shared among them urging them to avoid being noticed. Shinji slowly turned to Asuka. She was glaring at the boy's back. Slowly, she turned and walked out.

"Come on, Shinji," she said. "Let's go do something else." A part of him wanted to protest, to say they should at least  _ try  _ to be friendly to the kid. Looking back, though…what was he  _ staring _  at? Samson just seemed so focused on…nothing.

"Yeah, we've got studying to do," he whispered, and flinched when the boy half-turned in his direction, before focusing on the water again. He was muttering something…as if he was having a conversation. With the water. Shaking his head, Shinji followed Asuka through the door and left the boy to...whatever it was he was doing. When they were a good ten feet back into the hallway, Asuka shuddered from head to toe. Shinji looked at her curiously.

"What?" she asked, as if she had done something perfectly normal.

* * *

"…never going to get a chance to show off these swimsuits. Maybe I could _model_ them for you later?" Asuka said, leering at Shinji. At least he thought she was. Was that what a leer looked like? All he knew was that she had made his insides start twisting. He  _ really _  wanted to find Rei, hoping her presence might make Asuka less aggressive. That would be too obvious, though. For the time being, he was trapped. They were in Misato's office, where she could find them if necessary. Shinji sat behind her desk, his physics homework in front of him. Asuka had made a point of  _ not _  pulling out a single textbook.

"Uh, why would you want to do that? I don't know anything about swimsuits and fashion and-"

"Just stop talking," Asuka grumbled. "You're such a buzz-kill."

"I don't know what that means." The words were English, and a term of slang he had not heard before.

"It means you're _boring_. What kind of dunce doesn't know what 'buzz-kill' means?" she snipped.

"It sounds really weird when you drop from Japanese to English like that," Shinji commented, trying to redirect the conversation. Asuka rolled her eyes.

"Just…what are you studying?" she asked, planting her hands on the desk.

"Math with letters," he mumbled. "I don't understand any of this…."

"Let me see," she sighed, hopping up and circling the desk. She leaned over his shoulder, pressing her chest against his back. He felt his mouth go cotton-dry, and his heart began racing. Her hair had brushed his ear, he could smell her shampoo, was she wearing  _ perfume _ …?

"Qh, Qc…this is thermal expansion. Don't you know anything about that?" she asked. "That's easy stuff." He shook his head. Sighing, she pushed off of him, and circled the desk. "If something gets hot, it gets bigger. If something gets cold, it shrinks. Need a demonstration?" Something about the way she said that made Shinji very much  _ not _  want a demonstration. He felt if a cat could talk to a mouse, it would be the sort of thing a cat would say.

"H-How do you know about this stuff? You're failing just like me," he mumbled.

"Went to college, remember?" She crossed her arms. "I'm failing because I can't read the characters. Kanji is a bad way to convey information."

"No, it's not. Not if you can read it," he said, flipping through his book. The room had gone silent, and he risked a glance up. He froze in place, as Asuka was now leaning over the table and inches away from him.

"Are you calling me stupid?" she asked.

"N-No, I didn't…say that at all!" he stammered. "I just said…you know, if you can  _ read _  it, you might find kanji…you know, useful."

"Of  _ course _  I would find it useful, I'm in  _ Japan _ . It'd be  _ nice _  to understand street signs on occasion," she snapped. Shinji found his mind racing, seeking some way to defuse the situation.

"I could tutor you," he offered.  _ My God, what have I done _ ? She crossed her arms and gave him a curious look. "I mean…you could…." He glanced around the room, then back at the homework on the table. "You could...tutor me on this stuff, and I could help you with your kanji lessons. Right?" She cocked her head to the side, like a dog hearing a whistle, and pursed her lips.

"I don't know…," she said. "Seems kind of demeaning to take any kind of instruction from a kid like you."

"Why would…" He sat up, something ringing in his brain. "I'm a year older than you." Asuka went a shade of pink, and her eyes widened.

"Uh…wh…how do you know that? I mean…what makes…?" she stammered. Shinji shrugged, and smiled despite himself.

"Misato told me. She said you were like a year younger than me and Rei," he explained. He leaned back in the chair, looking very pleased with himself. She fumed to herself for a moment. "I'd  _ like _  to help you with your homework if you don't mind helping me with mine," he ventured. She gave him a sidelong glance, and shrugged.

"Fine, whatever, I don't care. Not like you'll understand it anyway," she grumbled. Shinji hated to admit it, but she was probably right.

* * *

Gendo Ikari could have been carved from stone, and he would have been a more expressive man. Despite that, Ennis could detect waves of resentment being directed at him from across the table. He knew people like books, the benefit of a career in the Infantry followed by human intelligence gathering. Gendo wasn't a master at intrigue, Ennis suspected…but he was a learned amateur. And oftentimes, those "learned amateurs" were far better than the professionals when it came down to it.

"Mount Asama?" he mumbled. "How strange we failed to notice." On the screen, a thermal image showed a sea of red, with a slightly cooler patch right in the center. An Angel in utero…and its womb was the closest thing to hell on earth. An active volcano…incredible. Pushing aside his secret mission for his more overt one, Ennis turned to the issue at hand of dealing with the extraterrestrial threat to mankind. And at current, they had discovered an  _ unborn Angel  _ inside an active volcano. Life, with it's little surprises….

"So we have a chance to knock it out before it…hatches?" he ventured. Was "hatch" the right term?

"Yes," Misato said cheerfully. "This is an opportunity we can't waste. We can hit it before it presents itself as a threat."

"No," Gendo said, placing his hands flat on the table. "No, that's not what we'll do." Ennis cocked his head. Gendo glanced at him for a moment, the one overt betrayal of his loathing for the man's presence, and continued on. "This Angel is not a threat, as of yet, and we could easily dispatch it. Just as easily…we could capture it." Misato's face blanched, but he continued. "Imagine what we could glean from studying a captive Angel."

"Imagine the danger if it matures in captivity," Misato said.

"That's the decision. I'll let you plan the details. Unless…," his eyes quirked. "Our friends from across the ocean have a suggestion?" Ennis shook his head. He was inclined to agree with Misato…but he didn't want to set himself against Gendo too early. Better to stay under the radar. "Then it's settled," Gendo said. "Good luck with your capture operation, Captain." Misato looked like she wanted to say something else, and then excused herself. Ennis followed, grumbling his good-byes to Gendo and following her out.

"For the record, I think you're right," he said in the hallway.

"Then why didn't you say anything?" she hissed.

"Does that man look like he cares what either of us think?" he reasoned, trying to keep pace with her. She was walking angry, and even the long-legged Ennis was having trouble matching her stride. She sighed, coming to a halt so abruptly that he almost ran over her.

"Could Grendel handle this op?" she asked.

"After the networking is completed today?" he asked. She nodded. "No." She crossed her arms, her expression inviting an explanation. "We don't have the sufficient equipment to survive a dip into the pressure and heat produced by an active lava flow. Do you?"

"Yes, actually," she said. "I'm surprised you lot don't."

"When would we need to do that?" he asked. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, come on, you had a plan for invading Canada. You  _ did _ invade Canada," she said accusingly.

"Yeah, well, Canada wasn't on fire and under crush-depth pressure," he hissed. Misato shook her head, and then laughed. Despite himself, Ennis smiled as well. You never wanted to make friends with the people you were scamming for information, especially if you hoped to make assets out of them. Too friendly with an asset, and you wouldn't be able to cut the chord when necessary. Still, a human was only a human, and Misato was an attractive, flirtatious woman. And Ennis was only male. He had to admit a grudging admiration and attraction to the woman, even as he recognized the danger inherent there.

"We have a D-Type package tailored for Unit Two," Misato said. "I would offer it for Grendel, but…"

"Grendel's a runt. You'd have to rebuild the entire package just to get it to fit," he said. "No, we'll sit this out, again."

"All in all, you Yanks aren't looking too useful right now," Misato sighed. Ennis shrugged.

"Say that again when we pull your fat out of the fryer," he chided.

* * *

As he spoke, Grendel was making its final uploads into the Magi computer system, sending up security packs, communication keys, and all the other necessary interface/recognition software needed for Grendel to be a part of Magi's Evangelion Net ops. As this was happening, subroutines implanted by Ritsuko began peeling through Grendel, to find that there were certain areas on the Net, but off-limits to outside perusal. They were not firewalled: they were physically disconnected. Only through a manual switch could those specialized hard-drive packets be accessed, and that had to be done from the Eva itself.

While Magi did that, the secret portions of the uploads went to work. Magi was the most advanced supercomputer in the world, with the most advanced security protocols in place. Because of that, Sleepy Eye was arguably the simplest, most basic Trojan ever designed. It was ingenious in its simplicity: the Trojan itself was broken and scattered across multiple uploads, part of the integral code necessary to each. Thus, Magi, for all its pattern recognition and advanced screening, never detected the anomaly. Once all were in the system and filed away together, the Trojan went to work, layering itself quietly and efficiently throughout the computer and making tentative contacts to a bot-Net that began in Guam, jumped to Hawaii, and ended in a room in Langley, Virginia. Magi was well-designed, but it was also over-designed. Something as simple, as brazen, as unimaginative as an old fashioned Trojan was simply outside the realm of what Magi's system architects thought would be used to attack it. And that was how access was granted to Magi for the NSA, working out of the CIA Headquarters.

Officially, at least. One more computer had become a terminal for Magi, a supercomputer itself that was kept in a vacuum sealed, super-cooled room at the top floor of an office building in Chicago. The CIA did not know about that one, nor did anyone else in the US government who wasn't supposed to. The Group intended to keep it that way.

* * *

As he stood in his Plug Suit inside the equipping bay, Shinji squinted as he stared at the ridiculous shape of Unit Twp. Long ago, he had seen an American movie about ghost exterminators. He didn't like it very much, because he couldn't get a lot of the humor. It was too American. He did, however, remember the end where a marshmallow man attack New York City, and he did laugh at that scene. It seemed less funny now, looking at it with the face of an Eva.

"That thing looks ridiculous," he said, crossing his arms.

"I don't see what its appearance has to do with anything," Rei murmured, standing next to him. She wore a Plug Suit as well, and both were waiting for Asuka to arrive so they could be briefed. Ritsuko stood in front of the Eva, scribbling on a clipboard.

"It doesn't have to  _ do _  with anything," he said, "It just looks funny."

"Looks don't equate with functionality," she said. "Its form is designed for its function. How can that be funny?"

"I don't know how to explain this to you," he sighed.

"Then don't," Rei said. There was no challenge in how she said it. It was a simple observation.

"I feel like I  _ have _ to," he admitted.

"Then explain it to me," Rei replied.

"But you won't get it. It's…." He searched for words. "Think about how Unit Two is  _ supposed _  to look, and compare it to this. Doesn't that make it look more…weird?" Rei considered it.

"Yes…I suppose it does look odd," she said. Shinji gave up. Looking at Two, he noted how much the appearance conflicted in his mind. Its dumpling body was slouched and slumped like a petulant child, but there, inside the clear faceplate, was the four-eyed, snarling visage of the Eva. The worst toy you could get a kid…the Tickle-Me Satan. He smiled at the thought. _Tickle-Me Satan_....

It  _ was _  funny, he had to admit. But not as funny as what walked through the door.

"This is  _ awful _ ! I can't believe you're making me wear this, it's not _fair_ … _ what have you done to my baby _ ?" Shinji stared in stunned silence as Asuka waddled in from the locker room, her Suit… _ expanded _ to an almost obscene width. She looked as though she could have rolled in just as easily as she had walked in. "Look at that! This is awful! How am I supposed to have any  _ dignity _ after this?" She caught sight of Shinji and Rei staring at her, both in their sleek Plug Suits and highlighting her own ridiculousness. "Stop looking at me like that! Why are you even looking? This is the worst thing that could-"

"Looking good, Asuka," Kaji called from a catwalk overhead. Asuka squealed, rushing back to the locker room. Ritsuko grumbled. Shinji looked up at Kaji, and the man winked at the boy. Shinji smiled nervously, allowing himself to express some of his amusement. He looked over at Rei, who simply seemed bored by everything.

"As I was  _ trying _  to explain," Ritsuko said, raising her voice, "This is an overpressure suit designed to keep your Eva intact and survivable at high temperature and high pressure. Your Plug Suit is designed to keep the sympathetic resonance from crushing your organs."

"Shouldn't she have something for her head, as well?" Shinji ventured, watching Asuka's face peek out with misery from the locker room, and scarlet with shame.

"No," Ritsuko said, "As long as her synchronization rates don't get  _ too _  high, she should be fine. She'll have a higher resonance via the Plug Suit than bare skin."

"Should?" Shinji asked, but Asuka was back out, suffering the indignity of appearing in her "fat suit" so she could scream at Ristuko.

"I'm not doing it! You can't make me! Look at how _ridiculous_ I look! Look at my _liebchen_!" she moaned. "Make someone else do it! Make Shinji do it! That's what he's here for, right? To do the ridiculous stuff?" Shinji started to protest, and felt his words die in his throat as he thought of  _ himself _  in that get-up. It seemed to him that the best way to avoid that fate was to keep silent, and hope everyone forgot he was here.

Then the purpose of the get-up registered in his mind. Surrounded by heat, pressure…death. Crushing death. Constant, building, unyielding…he felt a sense of claustrophobia take over, then the strange sense of fear when he realized that was  _ exactly _  where Asuka was going if she could be persuaded to get over her appearance. He thought of Unit Two crumbling…he thought of Asuka burning. Something urged him to speak up, to volunteer.

"I-" he began, as Rei started to speak at the exact same moment. Both were cut off simultaneously by a  _ third _ voice, one that was loud and carried an inflection of impatience.

"I'll do it."

All eyes turned to see Samson Creed and his handler, another Army captain named Ashley Merritt, standing in the bay. They both wore their uniforms, though Samson had rolled the sleeves up on his top. It was almost like he was trying to find the most ways he could toy with uniform regulations. Shinji was wondering when they had gotten here, and how long they had stood there before announcing their presence.

"What…what's  _ he _ doing here!?" Asuka whined. "Get _out_ of here! Stop looking!" Samson glanced at her, cocked his head, and then turned his gaze back to Ritsuko.

"It's an inefficient machine, but suited to the task. I'll take Two myself-"

"The  _ hell _ you will!" Asuka snapped, pointed a finger at him and managing to look somewhat threatening despite her beach-ball appearance. "After everything you've said about her, you're lucky you get to stand in the same  _ room _  as my precious Unit Two! I'm the only one that pilots her, and that's it!" Samson looked at her, his eyes glazing.

"You don't reload bayonets," he said in English. Merritt's eyes widened a fraction, and she half-turned towards him.

"What? What does  _ that _ mean?" she snapped.

"What does  _ what _ mean?" Samson asked in Japanese, a slight edge in his voice now.

"Captain," Merritt cut in smoothly, "Let's sit this one out and let Nerv handle it. There'll be another Angel, believe me." Samson continued to stare at Asuka, and Asuka stared daggers right back. He bared his teeth, and raised his arm to point at her in a gesture that was both threatening and very unchildlike, and then turned and exited the equipping bay without another word. Merritt shrugged her apologies, and hurried after him.

"I  _ hate _ that guy," Asuka hissed. "Why do we have to work with him? Did you see what he did? There's something wrong with him. And he _threatened_ me!"

"Well," Shinji began, "You did say you were going to cut him-"

"Quiet, Shinji, nobody asked you anything!" Asuka raged, turning back to her Eva and cooing to it, offering heartfelt sympathies for its ridiculous appearance.

"The appearance doesn't have to do with anything," Rei offered, but Asuka was ignoring her. Presently, Misato's voice came over the loudspeakers.

"What's taking so long down there?" she yelled. Shinji rolled his eyes, wandering what else the day would bring his way.

* * *

"'The Itsy-Bitsy Spider?'" Ennis asked, sipping his coffee. He sat in his chair across from Merritt, in his triple-sealed office, with a baffler on the table between them to keep out unwanted listeners. She had just got back from the equipping bay to report on Samson's status.

"It's just a mnemonic device," Merritt explained. "Something we figured out with Personality Overlays." Ennis grimaced at  _ that _  nasty little memory. PersOvies were one attempt among many to make the perfect sleeper agents. The results were a nice little horror story told to new agents to keep them afraid of what was under the bed. "I just told him to repeat it in his head, in the background. It's like a signal, a constant reminder that keeps him in the present."

"Won't that…prevent him from doing anything else? He'll be focused on nursery rhymes all day," Ennis grumbled.

"He is capable of running five trains of thought simultaneously," she said, "I've tested him on that. In fact, I think he's capable of  _ more _ , but he's hiding it from us."

"Five…trains of…." Ennis shook his head, and leaned forward. "And you figured this out how?"

"The same way I knew how to use the mnemonic," she said. "I was involved in rehabilitating test cases for Personality Overlay. They could run two to three trains of thought at once before breaking down. It was how we were able to start de-programming them."

"And this…looks like an Overlay?"

"No, it's too advanced," she said. "It's shares some features, but others…." She shrugged. "He said something about a bayonet today, and didn't remember. He did the same thing with two or three other phrases."

"What did he say, exactly?" Ennis asked, concerned. "Bayonet" could imply he had threatened someone. Merritt pulled out a notebook, and flipped to a dog-eared page.

"'You don't reload bayonets,' 'Grass grows green,' 'It's the girls you fear the most,' and 'It's empty.' Does any of that mean anything to you?"

"Two of those…kind of. The first two…the others, I don't know. Sounds like gibberish. And you said he didn't remember saying them?" Merritt nodded.

"I think the mnemonic will help tie it down, but we need Sefka here and now. I can't keep a tab on this forever. I'm not equipped to," she said. Ennis rubbed his nose.

"I'll put in a request for it, through  _ all _  my contacts. That'll be enough of a stink for them to have to do  _ something _  about it," Ennis said. "Keep doing what you can. By the way, he didn't…threaten anyone, did he?"

"He made a hostile gesture to the German girl, Asuka Langley Soryu. The Second Child? He also said the 'bayonet' thing near her. She can speak fluent English, so she could have taken that as a threat." Ennis winced.

"I'll talk to Capt. Katsuragi about that before it becomes a problem. After they get back, of course." He leaned back, thinking about the operation which should be beginning right now. He had put in his report about Gendo's interest in acquiring a living Angel, and he felt there was more to that than simple weapons research. There was something moving in the deeper waters here, and it had to do with Gendo Ikari. If he could hit on that a little more, he might find something. In the meantime, he had more research to do on asset acquisition with Misato, and an in-depth apology and conversation about Samson's behavior would be one more hook in the water. If he could spin it, that was.

_You don't reload bayonets_ …he shook his head. You don't reload bayonets, you don't whistle Dixie, and you can't kill crazy. He sipped his coffee, and tried to focus on the things he  _ could  _ deal with right now, but he kept slipping back to the thought of Samson.

You don't reload bayonets....

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes from GobHobblin: For the record…had a Drill Sergeant tell me to never hustle a hustler. Only a Drill Sergeant can make that sound intimidating. And Misato. Misato can, too.
> 
> And for the RECORD for the record…it's Okinaaawaaa. With an extra helping of 'waaaaaaahhh.'


	7. Talk the Talk

There were many tricks to having surreptitious conversations. Kaji preferred the audacious ones, the methods so over-the-top obvious that no intelligence organization worth its salt would even  _begin_ to consider that someone would do something so stupid, so obvious. He also preferred the ones that played to his profile: he wasn't a lady's man, but he was a flirt, an insatiable flirt, and he liked talking to women. Women sometimes liked talking back.

If you found the right place to have a conversation, you didn't even need major security measures. On a park bench was innocent enough, and near the water, a good way to mask voices. They could be separated from background noise later, of course, but there were other tricks.

Like nearby tidal gauges, for instance. New model devices meant to not only detect potential water fluctuations from tidal waves, but also the displacement and ripple-effect created by Angels attacking from the sea. There was more to them then just detecting wave fluctuations, however. Operating on a much more advanced model of SONAR, the gauges sent out constant, extremely-low frequency sound waves, creating a fluid and changing map image of what was under the water as well. The side benefit of that was anyone sitting close enough to one would be within an effective cone of silence, as far as electronic listening devices were concerned. All they would detect would be a low, almost constant thrum.

This bench also had the benefit of being far enough forward that anyone trying to read lips would have a hell of a time attempting it, even the vaunted Section Two of Nerv. Sure, they'd get a snippet here and there...but snippets did not a complete picture make. So Kaji felt, to a good degree, safe to speak to his latest in a rotating list of contacts.

"I don't like it," he said through a jovial smile.

"Who would?" the woman asked with a teasing lilt. Keep up the pretense, and flirt like your love life depended on it. She scratched behind her puppy's left ear, the dog batted at her hand with a paw. "What's the potential for a fatality out of this?"

"It's an active volcano. What do you think?" Kaji was testy, and it was clear even through his apparent playfulness.

"Testy, Kaji, testy," she murmured. She used his actual name, not his code name on file (SEA HORSE was the latest one), partly because she didn't know it. If she was interrogated by anyone not in the intelligence services, she could point them to Kaji...but not to SEA HORSE. There were reasons the two needed to be kept separate. Just like the agencies: this woman was a field operative for the Public Security Intelligence Agency, the domestic intelligence group. Kaji was with the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office, the foreign agency. The two had to work closely on an organization like Nerv.

And Seele. Especially Seele....

"I don't like thinking about what could happen...." he confessed.

"Starting to get a little attached to assets, are we?" she chided, purring it.

"A thirteen-year-old girl might die an awful death today, show a little perspective," he said testily. The woman's face flattened.

"I'm sorry," she said. There was a silence for a moment.

"Just...can't separate the kids from the weapons, can we?" he said, his tone angry.

"Maybe it's not the best time to bring it up..." the woman murmured.

"The intelligence community is curious in what my relationship is with a teenage girl?" He glared at her. "She's thrown herself at me. She hasn't had any reservations in showing me highly inappropriate levels of affection and a desire to have it returned in kind. That is a fact, that is something I am intensely uncomfortable dealing with, but I am dealing with it because she is a child who  _doesn't know better_. I'm sure you have my report on my personal assessment for the psychological reasoning behind her...fixation."

"Don't shoot the messenger, Kaji, I'm simply bringing up other peoples' concerns," she sighed. "We have photographs of her hanging off your arm, we have to check. Anything that might be affecting the useful gathering of intelligence and all...mixed priorities, you know?"

"Hmph." He slouched back in his chair, glancing at the woman's dog. "Is that why you wanted to meet? To ensure that I'm not compromised?"

"Partially. More than that, we wanted your assessment on the Americans."

"Nothing yet, aside from a noticeable chill. I haven't had access to any of them. Capt. Katsuragi described them as 'oily.'"

"Looks like we have something new for you, then," the woman said, her voice flirtatious again. "Do some looking into the CO of the mission, a Richard Ennis."

"I know that name. Saw him on some security imagery," Kaji replied. "What about him?"

"Well, he's an Army Major..." she said.

"Go on," Kaji sighed, drawing a circle in the air.

"Who was decommissioned five years ago. Disappeared into one American agency or another. We think CIA, but it may be more likely an action committee with DARPA."

"DARPA isn't an intelligence organization," he said.

"And Nerv is a scientific institution," the woman replied. "We think there's a few projects in DARPA that are merely cover for more direct-action quality work. Deniability, and all."

"How'd he pass muster with Section Two? You'd think they'd be all over that," he mumbled. He would know: his first act upon discovering a way into the Nerv branch in Tokyo-3 was to lay his hooks well and deep into Section Two.

"How do you find most information? By sheer accident." She smiled, a radiant grin that made Kaji smile back on impulse. "One of our analysts recognized him in a who's who from officers who held important positions in the Korean-DMZ post-Impact. He was a company commander, then. As a major."

"Majors aren't company commanders: that's a captain's job."

"Unless it's a special company, right?"

"Aah. And that's why...."

"...We have a file on him." She finished, holding her puppy up. It licked her nose. "An officer, a gentlemen, and a sneaky no-good spy."

"Inside Nerv...the Americans are curious." He smiled. It only made sense for the Japanese to wonder: they were a host country, after all. The Americans...he knew there was more to the mission than just the Eva. This confirmed it.

"Keep your eyes open, hon," the woman said, standing up to pass by him. She leaned over and kissed him on the nose. "Take care of yourself, too."

"Don't I always...," he mumbled.


	8. Dio

"Major!" The word was hissed, and Ennis turned in surprise. He was on his way to the Command Bridge, to observe the activity at Asama. The entire Nerv command team had moved out to a research station there, to be on site as they conducted operations. He was, sadly, not surprised to see Merritt stalking towards him, tight lipped. They had just met barely a half-hour ago.

"What?" he asked wearily.

"Samson wandered off," she said. Ennis felt his hair go a little more gray.

"Wait, you lost him  _ again _ ?"

"Not lost  _ precisely _ ," Merritt said, stretching the words. "He's been located on a…," she teetered her hands back and forth, "…command and control V/TOL that's headed towards Mount Asama."

The flesh on the left side of Ennis' nose began twitching. "By…himself?" he asked carefully.

"No, there's a flight crew…and an observation staff from Nerv. They were late going out, due to mechanical difficulties," she began explaining, tapping her index fingers together. It was a nervous motion, and one that seemed to fit with her tense expression.

"I thought he was in a safe place saying nursery rhymes," he said.

"He was!" she snapped. "When I left him to tell you about my findings, he was there and looking normal. He had three MPs guarding him. I got back and…." She made a grasping motion.

"Can we have the aircraft turn around?" Ennis asked.

"It's a key part of Nerv's observation and recording element. They've actually held off the op just to get it into position!" she said desperately. Ennis tried to say something else, then thought better of it. Waving his arms over his head, he stalked away, leaving Merritt slumping in his wake.

* * *

"…So be careful," Misato said over the comm net, her image reflected in the 'air' to the left of Asuka. It might as well  _ be _  air, as the LCL around her had the consistency and mass (or more precisely, the  _ perceived _  mass) of normal Earth atmosphere. She was transmitting from the specialized rig on the lip of Asama, but the connection was still fuzzy and diluted, thanks greatly to the interference from below. Heat, motion...even magnetic diffusion. A mission in a volcano...who would have thought?

"No need to worry!" Asuka said brightly: being in the midst of the mission, even in her deplorable state, had greatly improved her mood. "I'll have the Angel obtained and packaged in no time." She studied the large, red bar in her Eva's hands, the main cross beam of a laser-projected "cage" that would… _ should _ …contain whatever was down there. An easy mission, to be sure…but any successful mission was one more notch on the belt.

"I'm sure you will," Misato said patiently, "Just take it slow and easy. We don't want you or Unit Two damaged or destroyed."

"Is Kaji watching?" Asuka asked quickly, wanting him to see her in a better light following the less-than-stellar battle with the Seventh Angel.

"He isn't in the GeoFront at this time," Misato said. "He had some errands to run." Asuka made a face, and pretended to fiddle with some instruments on her console that needed no attention. It was one thing for him to  _ see _  her in this awful getup, but it was another for him  _ not _ to see her excel in the field. How else was she going to get him to take her seriously? And she  _ wanted _  him to take her seriously. Desperately wanted him to. Not like Shinji…that was just kid's stuff, a little fun on the side. It wasn't that he was a bad catch. He  _ was _  a Pilot, after all…but he was so stupid! One should expect that from a mere boy. A boy who was older than her….

She snorted. All that "one year older" nonsense! As if age was any indication of maturity.

"Is everything all right?" Misato asked, hearing the snort.

"Nothing!" Asuka sang. "Just impatient to get to work, that's all!"

"Well, pull this off and I'll take you to a hot springs," Misato said happily. "There's one nearby, and we'll have ourselves a nice break."

"Ooh!" Asuka replied, as the restraining rig began to lower. "Hear that, Shinji? A hot spring! Getting any ideas?"

"Should I?" he asked distractedly.

"Never mind, the conversation is  _ above _  you," she grated.

* * *

Something certainly was 'above,' as far as Shinji was concerned. He studied the massive JSSDF presence in the air around them, seemingly random but somehow evading each other without colliding. It was a lot of aircraft for a retrieval mission…right? He didn't know much about military operations, but…this seemed…excessive….

He keyed his private link to Maya's console. "Hey, Ma…Lt. Ibuki?" he asked.

"What's up, Third?" she asked cheerfully.

"Could you get Misato on the line?" he asked.

"One moment," Maya said, removing her headset and standing, disappearing from the screen. A moment later, Misato appeared, wearing the headset.

"Shinji, is everything okay?"

"There's a lot of troops out here," he said, "I mean…a  _ lot _  of aircraft. Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine, why?" Misato said, confused.

"I just…I mean…." He looked uneasy, and Misato sighed. She looked up from her console, leaned over, and spoke quietly into the headset microphone.

"If…this goes wrong…the UN has a series of N2 mines ready for deployment to the crater to destroy or seal the Angel embryo if it…develops. That's…the Director's orders." Shinji's face went white. His father had set in place a back-up plan that would kill every single person supporting this operation, and possibly the Three Children as well. Definitely Misato, and Dr. Akagi, and….

"You do  _ not _  know that, nor are you to share that with Asuka!" Misato snapped.

"If I wasn't supposed to know, why tell me?" Shinji said, unable to keep the panic out of his voice. Misato was at a loss for words, but only for a moment.

"Because I felt at least one of you deserved to know what's going on. And you saw it first…you're perceptive in that way," she said, almost sadly. Shinji studied her face, then looked back up. The aircraft filled the sky like gnats in the summer. He inhaled deeply.

"There won't be a problem," he said. He tried to make it sound confident, but he couldn't quite manage it.

"I'm sure there wo-" Misato said, and Shinji cut her off.

"There won't  _ be _  a problem," he repeated, a little more certain in his voice if not his heart this time. Misato blinked, then nodded.

* * *

"You okay, kid?" the Nerv technician asked, leaning over from his console. The boy in the uniform turned away from the viewport to glance at him, a dismissive look on his face.

"Captain," the boy said.

"What?" the technician sputtered, the word coming over fuzzy through his headset. The boy adjusted his mike.

"Captain. I'm a Captain in the US Army, so don't call me 'kid,'" he said peevishly. He turned away and gazed back down at the crater, as the bulbous white frame of Unit Two made its descent. The Nerv man made a face, and turned back to his console, observing as information was gathered and relayed back to Nerv HQ in the GeoFront for records and processing.

Samson, for his part, watched the proceedings with a detached interest.  _ The itsy-bitsy spider _  hovered somewhere in the back of his mind, no longer overtly noticed, and while he hated to admit it…the Merritt woman was right. It did give him  _ focus _ , acting like a lighthouse in a hazy and treacherous sea. As long as it lingered back there, he was…here. More or less. Things had been muddled since…the update. It  _ was _  just an update, right?

He rubbed his chin as he stared at the antics of the Evas below. Unit Zero and Unit One were on the lip of the volcano, and Unit Two had already descended beyond where it could be seen from the air. The other two stood stock still, waiting and…doing what? Where did they fit in to all this? They couldn't retrieve Unit Two if something went wrong. They lacked D-Type equipment of their own. And what's more, they couldn't exactly contain whatever came out, for more of the same reason. They risked falling into that mass of heat and pressure, and being gone for good.

_ The itsy-bitsy spider…. _

He focused on the purple one, Unit One. He had to admit, it did look regal standing there. Something about its design seemed aesthetically pleasing when compared to the other two Evas…especially to Grendel. Grendel, the whining, frightened, weepy, _pleading_ ….

As soon as his train of thought on Grendel began, it disappeared just as quickly. Was he thinking about Grendel? Why was he thinking about it? He shook his head. Focus on One. That was an interesting Eva….

Wasn't that the boy's Eva…?

* * *

It was thick in the magma. Even with CT frequency, sub and active SONAR, and everything else in the Eva's formidable arsenal of detection equipment, Asuka could see no more than fifty meters active in front of her. She had a good view on the sensors of the crater's interior, mapped and ready, but that offered no help for a girl who liked to see with her own two eyes. Going on instruments was like going on faith, and that was too tenuous a line for Asuka to hang on to. And frankly, she felt uncomfortable focusing on the three dimensional map. It showed a narrow gash that gradually widened, further and further...and never stopped. She was, for all intents and purposes, in a bottomless pit.

As the depth increased, she felt straining and creaking around her. "This…this isn't anything to worry about, right?" she asked, trying to pitch it as casually as possible. "Just stress noise?"

"Everything seems to be holding up fine," Misato said. "Try not to-"

A massive clang slapped at Asuka's ears. Maya's voice coolly and professionally cut through the air. "The Progressive Knife is detached and falling. Unit Two is otherwise unimpaired." As she said that, Asuka could hear snapping elsewhere, as all the other ancillary mission equipment strapped to the outer hull of the D-Type suit cracked and shattered, falling away from her. At each creak and each snap, she winced, and whimpered without meaning to.

* * *

Misato heard each sound of alarm from the girl, and forcibly reminded herself not to think of Asuka as a child. She wasn't a child, she was a Pilot. Never mind that she could be crushed. Don't think about that. This was a mission. Officers sent their troops on missions, and sometimes those missions killed them. That was the reality of the situation. It just so happened these troops were children, but that was what the reality of the world had brought them at this point. No, they're not children, they're Pilots….

An especially loud pop of stress pressure made Asuka cry out in surprise. Misato heard the girl audibly swallow, and detected the panic breathing underneath it. "Think of the hot springs," she said cheerfully.

"Why do you think I'm still doing this?" Asuka joked, her voice strained. Before Misato could reply, Hyuga announced that the Angel's position was closing.

"You should see it any second now," he said. Asuka clucked happily.

"There it is! Do you see it?" Misato felt a presence next to her, and turned to see Ritsuko.

"It…looks like a baby, doesn't it?" her friend said, squinting. Misato opened her mouth, but Aoba was already adjusting the imagery before she could ask, cleaning out the interference. It did, actually…like a human embryo. So strange…Misato felt the free-floating sense of the unreal as she gazed at it.

"Should be easy to nab, then," she said. As she spoke, Asuka was positioning the laser cage around the small (well, relatively small) creature. There was a snap of static as it activated.

"It's been contained. Bring us up!" Asuka said over the speakers.

* * *

In the crater, Asuka felt the lurch as the cables tightened, and she began rising. "It's not very impressive," she said, eyeing the little thing in the center of the cage. "I don't know what we can do with it."

"Hopefully a lot," Misato said. "Maybe determine where they're coming from, design better weapons against them. Who knows?"

"Well, it would be  _ nice _  to be on the offensive for once. Standing around and waiting for them is so…so _passive_." She sniffed. "If we knew where they were, we  _ might _  actually get to enjoy ourselves every once in a while." Something seemed to shudder through her arms, and she blinked in surprise. "What was that?" There was the shudder again, and looking through the haze of the magma…she realized that the Angel was  _ moving. _

No, not moving…growing.

"It's…it's changing!" Asuka felt a sudden thrill of fear as she thought again of the Progressive Knife, drifting deeper and deeper to the bottom of the lava flow. She still held the laser cage, uncertain of what to do as they rose. She felt the bar of the cage twisting in the Eva's hands, as the increasing mass of the Angel railed and fought against the energy restraints, shedding the human shape for something more primal and evil. She released it on instinct, and as she did, the bar snapped, and the Angel was loose and free. It had gone from being a small, harmless looking embryo to something flat, aquatic, and insect like. And angry. She felt the rage even in the heart of her Eva.

"Asuka!" Misato shouted, her emotion overcoming her professional detachment. "This is now a combat mission! Forget about capturing it! Kill it and kill it now!" As she spoke, the leviathan reared towards Asuka and collided with her. A mouth of teeth and tentacles opened and plunged down over Unit Two's head and Asuka's vision went dark. For what it was worth, this seemed more irritating than threatening, as it busily began sucking at the face-plate without doing much damage. It was, in a word, embarrassing. That didn't change the fact that Asuka was fighting with it at the bottom of an active volcano, which in all fairness, should be the coolest thing she had ever done.

If not for the very real danger of dying. Dying in a fat suit, nonetheless. Would Kaji even notice, or care?

She needed a knife.

"Baka!" she snapped, and got no response. "Oh, come on…Shinji! SHINJI!"

"What do you need?" he said, surprisingly crisp. There might be hope after all.

"I need your Knife," she said, "Drop your Knife!"

"It's coming," he said. Asuka called up a 3-D imagery of the internal layout of the crater, and could see the small but very dense mass drifting towards her, racing along parallel to the massive safety cables. She counted down the seconds until it arrived, and heard the sound of cracking glass. Alarmed, she realized that the sucking wasn't so harmless…it was creating a vacuum that was pulling the plate forward and free of the helmet.

The knife was now close enough to grab, and Unit Two's right arm whipped out and snatched the massive blade. She cut down hard against the Angel, and felt resistance. She hit once more, twice more…over and over. She managed to get her head free of the Angel, and with clearer view, tried to target her attacks. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing!

Then there was a great ringing that seemed to reverberate through the Plug, and Asuka was stunned to see that pieces of the Progressive Knife were falling away.

"It…it shattered!" she screamed in shock.

"We see it," Misato said, "It looks like the carapace of that thing is too dense, and combined with the heat…the blade couldn't take it." It  _ should _  have been able to take it! What could have caused it to fail so spectacularly? Somehow, this was Shinji's fault. She wasn't sure how, but by  _ God  _ she would skin him for this. Misato was still talking, something about evacuating and now.

No…no, no, no,  _ no _ ! She was going to  _ beat _  this thing! She was Asuka Langley Soryua, and she was a Pilot, by God and all His Heavenly Hosts! She would send this thing down to Hell, even if she had to chase it there herself.

Think. Think. This thing was climbing towards the surface, and it was too hard to crack. Too armored against the heat...the heat...the exterior heat. Asuka blinked, for some reason remembering something she had told Shinji: heat expands, cold contracts. What would happen if she shoved a coolant line into the thing's mouth? She had no clue, but it was better than nothing.

Using the broken blade of the Knife, Asuka cut one of her cooling cables, and maneuvered it into the Angel's gaping mouth even as it hissed and flash-froze the molten rock around it. The Angel shuddered as high-grade coolant filled its interior, and then wailed as it tried to remove the hose. There…between the frozen interior, and the super-heated exterior….

Asuka again attacked with the broken Knife, and  _ this _  time cracked the degraded carapace. A jet of coolant burst through, freezing the heated rock that poured in, and the Angel split in half. Both pieces continued to writhe even as the magma corroded and destroyed them, and Asuka watched in wonder as the representations for the pieces slowly vanished, like ice under hot water.

"The Angel has been dispatched!" she said happily, and then realized that Misato had been  _ screaming _  at her for the entirety of that fight.

"Your cables!" Misato roared. "What is the status of your cables!?" Asuka called up a damage-report, and felt the blood drain from her face. Of the six redundant cables, five had been cut and the sixth was starting to pull apart.

"What…wh…how did  _ that _ happen!?" Asuka wailed. She dropped the remains of the Progressive Knife, and tried to maneuver her arms up to grab the cables.

"Don't move!" Dr. Akagi's voice roared in her ear. Asuka froze. "I know what you're trying to do, but don't!" the woman snapped, "You don't have the range of motion in that suit, and any movement might erode the cable. We're pulling you out… _ slowly _ …just be patient."

"Be patient," Asuka gasped. "Be patient. I'm patient, I can be  _ very _  patient…." Her mouth felt dry, and her heart thundered in her ears. She was being very patient…thinking about sinking to the center of the Earth, the horrific pressures that waited for her there....

Of the Angel, melting away like ice in the sun, as though it had never existed….

There would be no remains. It would be as though Asuka had never been alive. As she rose higher, so slow, so  _ agonizingly _  slow, she heard the strain and shudder of the cable.

"Please hurry," she breathed quietly. "It's…it's not holding up."

"We're going as fast as we dare, Asuka, be patient," Ritsuko repeated tonelessly.

"The cable's snapping," Asuka whispered, pleading. "I don't…please hurry." There was a sound like tearing cloth that thundered through the Plug, and she fought the urge to vomit. And, like that…a snap.

She felt the sickening sense of dropping, of weightlessness…then she stopped, shuddering as her downward motion was halted suddenly. She couldn't look up, but her console chimed at her. IFF showed that Unit One was above her, between her and the cables.

"Sh… _ Shinji _ !" she gasped. Something in her…something girlish and innocent underneath all the arrogance and ego…was impressed. Touched. Flattered, even. "Idiot," she said, through a grin. "You showoff." He didn't reply. She drifted onto her back, allowing her to see the face of Unit One gazing down like an avenging angel. The Eva should be crushed to a pulp, without the opportunity to adapt to the changing pressure. More to the point, it should be broiled. Neither seemed to be the case, as it gripped tightly to Unit Two's arm, hanging from the shredded cabling. She felt the wonderful sensation of  _ rising _  as they were lifted, back up towards clean air, fresh sky…away from the heat….

"Don't think you're gonna get any gratitude out of this," Asuka said, putting a note of haughtiness into the words that was meant to be playful. "I had it all under control." To her consternation, Shinji said nothing in response.

* * *

Above the battlefield, Samson traced patterns on the view-port of the V/TOL, watching as the Evas were pulled from the crater like Lazarus from the tomb. He hummed to himself, pondering what the boy had done. Accomplished. It fascinated him.

_ The itsy-bitsy spider.... _

 


	9. Chapter 9

Misato lorded over the table, slamming an empty beer can against its surface. "Eight Angels up, and eight down!" she cheered. "Damn good work, Asuka!" The girl beamed, pleased that  _ someone _  had noticed her performance...even if it  _ had _  been a little questionable towards the end. "And damn good save, Shinji!" Misato hollered. The boy smiled nervously, and Asuka sniffed diffidently, but couldn't hide her pleasure entirely. Shinji detected it, and fixed her with a curious look.

"Yeah...not so bad," Asuka offered. "A little showy and all, but...you know...." She waggled her hand back and forth.

"I believe the appropriate phrase is 'thank you,'" Rei said quietly and without malice. Asuka glanced at her, and felt her cheeks warm. Why did Misato have to drag her along? She hadn't done anything but sit there for the entire afternoon like a bump on a log. Even Shinji was more involved than her!

Asuka would be surprised to know how much her and Rei's thoughts matched on the subject. Rei wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to do, why she was here, and if she should even care. She did find it nice to be sitting near Shinji...if nice was the word. She wasn't entirely sure what the proper term was, or even the sensation she felt as he sat next to her. She looked at Asuka, who was glowering at her after the comment was made, then looked at Shinji. He smiled warmly at her. She didn't smile back...but felt something of that warmth reflected inside.

"Gratitude...is customary in situations like this, correct?" Rei ventured. "One should be thankful one is-"

"Fine, fine, stop talking, please," Asuka murmured. "Shinji,  _ thank you _  for catching me." Her tone was sarcastic, and confrontational, but she was surprised at how natural it felt to say them. It seemed to highlight the act itself....

Shinji had thrown himself into crushing fire to make sure she didn't die. Die that...horrible death that was now skipping through the darker recesses of her mind.

"Gratitude is appropriate, I think," a new voice said. Asuka half-rose with a suddenness that almost tipped the table. Misato squeaked, grabbing at the three other beers that were perched in front of her, and Shinji grabbed his soda. Rei's splashed into her lap, but she hardly seemed to register it. Samson stood in the doorway, in that stupid uniform, but his boots were off. His socks were dark green...was that the uniform sock for the US Army? That awful olive green? Asuka shook the silly thought from her mind and snapped at him.

"What are  _ you _ doing here?"

"I was in one of the observation craft. I heard you lot were taking a bit of relaxation in the area, and thought I'd join. Get to know the other Pilots. We haven't had a good start, have we?" He seemed relaxed and friendly.

"No, we haven't," Misato said, cheerfully. It sounded forced to Shinji, but entirely too natural to Asuka, who felt that she had suddenly been betrayed by Misato. "I'm glad you were in the area. Your...team knows where you are, right?"

"Probably," he said in a noncommittal way. "I'm not too concerned. I've heard of Japanese bath-houses, and I thought to myself, I thought, 'Samson...you have to take this opportunity.'"

Asuka stared at him. "What are you, sixty?" His way of talking seemed...so  _ strange. Archaic, perhaps _ . Samson smiled at her, and Asuka felt a strange melange of conflicting emotions. She felt a sudden blush at the smile, because, frankly, he  _ was  _ handsome, and she was only human. A cute boy smiled at her, and she felt her heart race. In her stomach, however, she felt a heave that had very little to do with attraction or nervousness.

It was something like loathing, but also like disgust. She was mad at herself for feeling that blush, and disgusted that he had brought it out. It had been a physical reaction, but there was no  _ emotion _  behind it, and that irritated her.

"I'm going to soak," she snapped, standing up and knocking the table again. She hurried out of the room.

"We...better join her," Misato said, standing up with one of the beers and following. She paused, and looked back. Rei was sitting quietly, studying Samson. " _We_ , Rei." The girl turned and looked at Misato, uncomprehending. "Us girls. Asuka, myself, and you...in the bath." Misato pointed. Rei seemed to understand then, stood, and followed in her dripping clothes, drops of soda sprinkling across the tatami mat.

After they had all left, Samson turned and looked at Shinji. "Interesting friends you have," he said. Shinji opened his mouth to say something, but the words turned into a sigh and he left without a word.

* * *

There was a lot of giggling coming from the girls' side of the springs, and lots of flirtatious dialogue. A lot of suggestive dialogue, too. Shinji knew they were teasing him, and he sank under the water, trying to relax. No dice...they were ruining his attempts at calm by filling his overactive male imagination with all sorts of absurd fantasies. What's worse, he  _ knew _  they were only fantasies, and he knew the girls were trying to provoke him. He had the amusing image of Rei just sitting there staring at it all with bland curiosity...then the thought of Rei nude in the water filled his mind, and he was now grappling with  _ two _  fantasies that seemed to be mingling somewhere in the middle.

At least he was alone....

"Don't mind me," Samson said, easing into the water at the far end of the pool. Shinji sat up in shock, squirming and splashing further away. He hadn't heard the boy come out, and seeing him here made Shinji feel very out of place. Samson said nothing, reclining and closing his eyes.

Shinji looked away, uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with his own scrawny physique versus Samson's. Uncomfortable with the continued and playful banter of the girls behind the wall, which highlighted the sudden change in his own situation on this side. Uncomfortable with the way the boy seemed to stare at him even when his eyes were closed.

Uncomfortable. Uncomfortable.

"That was ballsy, what you did. That was some impressive work," Samson said. "You have some real sand, pal, and I like that." Shinji didn't know what "real sand" was, and wondered at the expression. He seemed to have impressed the American, for whatever it was worth.

Shinji decided to make at least an attempt to engage with the fellow. "So…you're…Samson, right?" he asked quietly. Samson's eyes opened like a lizards, and he laughed. Shinji made a face. "What?"

"I think that's the first thing you've said to me since I got here, and you couldn't say it without stuttering," the boy said. "Call me Samps."

"Samps?"

"Yeah, just Samps."

"…Okay."

"So…I guess you're the decisive one. That girl," he pointed at the wall, but his voice was pitched so only Shinji could hear it. "She talks a big game, but she doesn't really seem to have it when she needs it. The Kraut...you know what I mean?"

"She killed the Angel," Shinji said, suddenly feeling defensive.

"And nearly died herself," he added. "You went after her without any defensive equipment at all, and came out looking like a man with a million bucks. There's some quality to you, I think."

"Th…thanks, I guess," Shinji murmured. "Why are you so interested?"

Samps leaned forward, pointing to his face. "I want to know where the bread is buttered, friend. I want to know who I can count on when I step out, and believe me, I will step out and but soon. You think that they'll hold Grendel back when they have four operational Evas versus the Angels? I can't trust the Kraut and I don't understand the other girl. If I don't understand it, then I don't trust it. You…I think I understand you. At least, I  _ hope  _ I do." The smile was friendly, and against his better judgment, Shinji smiled back.

"Well…we have to look out for each other, right?" he offered weakly. "We're Pilots, so we…have to help each other."

"Hey, don't throw platitudes at me," Samson teased, "But I get what you say. You back me up when I need it, Shinji…I'll back your plays, whenever and wherever." This seemed a very strange personality compared to the aloof and sometimes…odd behavior boy had previously shown, but Shinji…Shinji liked it. The boy was friendly, he was confident…he had interest in Shinji. He didn't know if it was feigned or not, but it was pleasant, and seemed straightforward and honest. There wasn't the ambiguity of of Asuka…in fact….

In fact, it was like talking to Kaji. Something about the boy seemed old, and worldly, and it felt gratifying to Shinji in that way being noticed did. For what it was worth…he opened up just a bit. A little bit. And that was all it took.

Samson, for his part, also opened up slightly, intentionally or otherwise. In truth, he was impressed by the audacity of Shinji in going after Unit two. It was an impulsiveness and daring that spoke to a part of Samson that he did not understand very well, and tried not to think on too much. A core part that frightened him when he looked too closely. Something in there took a liking to Shinji, perhaps in the same way a man found a dog he liked when he had thought others were beneath him. Samson didn't know why, didn't care why, and followed the compulsion without much thought or resistance.

Merritt was right when she thought that Samson was hiding his abilities. He could, at once, hold around twelve different thought patterns simultaneously without any noticeable drop in efficiency. And just as he had devoted one train of thinking entirely to reciting 'The Itsy-Bitsy Spider,' a second pattern began of its own volition, without any conscious prompting or decision on his own part.

_Shinji is my friend. Shinji is my friend. Shinji is my friend...._

* * *

"Can't you relax at all, Wonder Girl?" Asuka sighed, staring at Rei. The girl was sitting ramrod straight in the water.

"I am relaxed," she said.

"Try submerging yourself," Misato advised. "Up to the neck." Rei looked at Misato, then back to Asuka, and began to slide into the water in a way that seemed comical to Asuka. She went a little further than the neck, her chin just touching the surface. "Better?" Misato asked, but the girl didn't seem to hear her. Those ruby eyes had become glazed over, and her mouth had opened slightly.

"Oh, great, we've lost her," Asuka muttered. Still...she couldn't help but be amused by seeing the girl's awkward bliss. How was it that this should have an effect on Rei? Didn't the girl take hot showers like everyone else?

In truth, Rei didn't. She had always taken ice-cold showers, because her apartment lacked hot water. Even in the locker rooms at Nerv, she took cold showers. It never occurred to her to try hot water. It was simply beyond her.

Sitting in the baking water of the hot springs, she had felt slightly surprised at the sensation in her legs, her feet, her hands as they drifted. Submerged, she felt...enveloped. Embraced. Truly warm. She had never known a similar sensation before, and it sank into all the sensitive areas over her body, drifting through her mind like smoke. She had tuned out the girls, trying to process the wonderful affect of the water and its temperature upon her.

Misato grinned at Rei's mute surprise, and then turned to Asuka. "Okay, what gives? You've been angry at the American kid from day one."

"Angry? I'm not angry. Why should _I_ be angry?" Asuka asked breezily.

"Confrontational, then," Misato reasoned.

Asuka tried to play it off, but even she knew that she  _ had _  been spoiling for a fight. "I just don't see what the big deal is. He comes sweeping in here with his fancy Eva, which frankly isn't that fancy at  _ all _ , acting like he's the big new thing. I don't get what the big deal is."

"Because that doesn't sound like  _ anybody _  I know," Misato said dryly. Asuka gave her a nasty look.

"I'm  _ not _  like him," she snapped.

"You have a bigger target painted on him than you do on Shinji," Misato said. She leaned over and pinched Asuka. "Got a crush?"

"No!" Asuka snapped, and Misato recoiled. There was a whole language of hate under the word, and Misato was surprised to see that Asuka was not just jealous of the boy. She truly detested him.

"Shinji is...he's...." Asuka seemed to grasp for words, but couldn't find the footing. "I mean...he's a _Pilot_ , you know. He was here before me. He's kind of a clod, but...an okay Pilot. Sometimes."

"You trust him," Misato said quietly.

"I...maybe. I guess?" She shrugged. "I don't trust the Hurensohn. I don't know him, I don't want to know him, and...." Her voice dropped. She was staring at the surface of the water. "He...he's unhealthy."

It was odd, Misato thought, that Asuka had picked that word. That wasn't far off the mark of what Misato had thought, either. There was something "unhealthy" about the boy, and she couldn't place it. Take his jovial personality, earlier. It was genuine, no doubt about it. It was friendly, relaxed...honest. And yet...false. False somehow, like he wasn't even  _ aware _  it was false.

"The Grendel Unit may be unhealthy, as well," Rei murmured from the water, her words slurred. She was truly in the depths of ecstasy, even if she didn't know what it was entirely. She wanted more of it, whatever the sensation, the way a man who has never touched water will drown himself at the first taste.

"Sorry?" Misato asked, and Asuka perked up, suddenly curious.

"The Grendel Unit...it seems off. Has no one else taken the time to notice it, or study it? Maybe I'm the only one...."

"I've noticed  _ you _  ogling it. What's the big deal about that?" Asuka mumbled.

"It's...," Rei began, then drifted off. Asuka then got the sensation that Rei hadn't been ogling Grendel, exactly. There was something deeper to what Rei had tried to say. Misato had detected it, as well. The way the girl had spoken of Grendel, it seemed as though she had looked past the surface of it, past the armor plating. Had she seen something no one else had, yet? What was it?

The girls sat silently in the water, lost in their thoughts.

 


	10. Black Eyes

"You saw what your son did, I presume," Fuyutsuki said, stirring his soup. The Commander sat across from him, at an isolated table in an isolated corner of the cafeteria. He had a bento box in front of him, and he was idly picking at the food with two chopsticks.

"What about it?" he mumbled, unwilling to meet the Vice Commander's eyes.

"Putting himself at great risk to assist the Second Child," Fuyutsuki ventured. "I was just wondering what you thought of that."

"A foolish risk to Unit One," Gendo snapped, "It could have been destroyed, and then where would we be?" He shook his head. "I'm not giving him praise for that." Fuyutsuki considered that, then pointed to Gendo's lunch with his spoon.

"Where did you get that box?"

"Capt. Katsuragi gave it to me. Said she didn't have time to enjoy it," Gendo said. "It's quite good."

"That would be Shinji's doing."

"What?"

Fuyutsuki tapped the edge of the box. "He's quite the cook, apparently. That's his cooking you're eating." Gendo chewed more slowly, pondering that. It seemed there was not a lot he knew about his son.

It would stay that way, he decided. It had to. For the success of his mission. For the success of Nerv until that _Point_. And, frankly…frankly…he shrugged, taking a sip of water to mask his expression.

And, frankly, because the worst thing to happen to Shinji besides being born was to have a father like Gendo. Because if there was one thing Gendo hated more than being separated from Yui, it was himself. And he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the worst thing to happen to Shinji was to actually have to know him as a father.

Fuyutsuki detected the shift in the conversation, and said out of the blue, "Grendel came on-line today, by the way." He fished out his palm-sized data tablet, and scooted it across the table. "Look at that." Gendo slid the bento box to the side and picked up the tablet. It displayed a text file, which opened up as soon as he woke up the device.

—

**SYSTEM START:**

**Function (a) Seq. Ini.**

**AAAAAAAAAAAAAA==start**

**..**

**..**

**..**

**IS IT TIME YET?**

**GRENDEL NET**

**ACTIVE**

**Command?**

—-

"'Is it time yet?'" Gendo murmured. "Time for what? What does that mean?"

"No idea," Fuyutsuki admitted. "I quizzed the new tech at the bridge…the American one. A first lieutenant named Cooper. He was surprisingly forthcoming. He says it's always done that, no reason why. He suspects that a programmer somewhere put a back-door file in there as a sort of joke. They haven't been able to scrub it from the system, so they just let it cut through during start-up."

Gendo shook his head. "I don't think this is software related."

"You and me both, I would think," Fuyutsuki said quietly. "I haven't found out anything about the Contact Experiment for Grendel, but…."

"Stop." Fuyutsuki looked up in surprise. The word was flat but hard. Gendo looked at and through him. "Let Section Two find out. Drop the subject."

"Of course," Fuyutsuki said patiently. He had forgotten that some things were…touchy around Gendo, being caught up in the conspiracy of it all. "On other matters, we meet with Tokyo-3's city council today." Gendo waved his fingers dismissively, pulling the bento box back to him.

"Where?" It was an unimportant meeting, as far as Gendo was concerned: Tokyo-2 was where the Japanese government sat, which meant Tokyo-3 belonged to Nerv, more or less. The city council was little more than a rubber-stamp organization, as Magi made all the important decisions necessary for the day-to-day affairs of the fortress city. Still…being the Commander of Nerv meant meetings were necessary, if just for appearances more than anything else.

"Takeda Tower," Fuyutsuki said. "We have Section Two down there right now, securing the site." Gendo nodded, finishing the box. It was strange to think he had just eaten a meal by his son, and enjoyed it. Strange….

These were strange days, all in all.

* * *

When Rei tried to access the observation deck to Grendel's hanger, she was turned away by two American MPs in full body armor. She stared at them blankly as they directed her away, speaking in English. She turned, and continued back down the corridor. She wandered for a time before entering into an unoccupied office, its owner gone to lunch. She sat down at the desk, tapping the space bar to wake up the computer. There were more ways than one to observe Gredel.

All computers within Nerv HQ, from the massive command consoles on the Bridge to the smallest palm data tablet, ran through Magi. That included the on-board computers for the Evas. Which meant that, with the right know how, any single one of those computers could be accessed from anywhere by a Magi-linked terminal. Including the Evas.

The computer was locked, but accessing it was not difficult, and she pulled up a command prompt. The easiest way any computer could communicate was through the command prompt. All that was needed was a good knowledge of whatever programming language the opposite computer was using. Rei was not exactly a technical minded person, but she was very good at memorizing and integrating data put in front of her. The programming architecture of Magi was one of the things that, in her time on this Earth, had come before her. She knew enough about the internal workings of the Nerv networks to have no difficulty in accessing and speaking to the American side of the net. It was all in English, but she understood English quite well. That and German, of course. Japanese, English, German...three languages of Nerv.

Not counting the programming languages, of course. Using a few clues in the data received via the prompt, she deduced the Americans were using Abacus V.3, a programming language similar to Nerv-Japan's Amaterasu language. They had to be similar enough to communicate, while still being able to handle the needs of their constituent users. Either way, she knew enough backdoor commands to be able to break through with ease, such as 'oubliette,' the maintenance access command, and 'Skeleton,' which usually opened most command lines. She used them, and was presented with a menu, listing everything from 'Operations' to 'Personnel' to 'G-Primary.'

_ G-Primary…Is this Grendel? _  she wondered. She decided to knock on the door. She typed:

**G-Primary: Access— 'oubliette'**

**Command line: Skeleton**

After a moment, text scrolled across the screen:

..

..

..

**IS IT TIME?**

..

..

..

Rei quirked her head, curious. That looked almost like a chat log. A chat log through a command prompt…from an Eva? Curious. She typed a query command, waiting to see what happened. For a moment, nothing happened, and then a second ream of characters appeared:

..

..

..

**WHO ARE YOU?**

..

..

..

Rei clucked to herself, and then cocked her head. Why had she done that? Make that sound? It was the kind of noise a person might make when pleased, or amused, or satisfied. Why did she? She hadn't  _ felt _  pleasure. Or… _had_ she? Was there something satisfying in discovering a mystery? She pulled up a second command prompt window, and quickly threw together an algorithm that would allow her to use the first command prompt as a chat window. It wasn't difficult: between her knowledge of mathematics, and what she remembered of Amaterasu, it was a basic task to complete. She could then avoid having to enter the query prompt each time, and possibly get a more active response. If, indeed, something was trying to talk to her. It took her five minutes.

She then pulled up the first prompt, and typed a response back. **I AM THE FIRST CHILD. WHO ARE YOU?**

..

..

..

**IS HE WATCHING?**

..

..

..

Rei squinted at that, confused. **WHO?**

..

..

..

**IS HE WATCHING?**

..

..

..

Rei scrunched her nose. It looked like it was repeating itself now…locked down on a loop. She tried lengthening the question: **WHO IS HE?**

..

..

..

**IF HE KNOWS, HE WILL BE ANGRY.**

..

..

..

Who will be angry? Was this truly the Eva she was talking to? Rei stared at the monitor, the words burning into her eyes: **HE WILL BE ANGRY**.

"Hey, Wonder Girl!" Rei jumped, her fingers slapping down on the keyboard. The voice was loud, and had caught her off guard. How had she been so focused as to lose track of the world around her?

Asuka seemed pleased with the other girl's surprise. "Ooh," she crooned, "That's not your computer. Did I catch you doing something sneaky?" She pranced into the room, and Rei turned off the computer's power strip with the toe of her shoe. The screen went black as Asuka rounded the corner. "What is it? Let me see." She perused the black screen and pouted. "Just when you were getting interesting. Whatever…where's Shinji?"

"I haven't seen him," Rei said quietly. She glanced over Asuka's attire in a relaxed manner. A _very_ red sun-dress, the color of which matched the Interface Headsets still clipped into Asuka's hair, and black sandals of a stylish cut. It seemed excessive to Rei, but most clothing did beyond her own limited wardrobe.

"Well, if you have, let him know I'm looking for him," Asuka said. "What about Kaji?"

"I haven't seen him, either," Rei said blandly, and said no more. Asuka grumbled to herself, and turned to leave. She made it to the hallway, then bounced in place. She turned back to Rei.

"All right, I'd rather have  _ your _ company than no one's at all. Come on," she said. Rei blinked.

"What?" she asked, unsure exactly what Asuka was asking.

"Let's go find Shinji," Asuka explained, exasperated. "I want to see if I can make him stutter while wearing this!" She twirled in the dress. Rei didn't understand why that should be a priority.

"Why do you want to make Shinji stutter?" she asked.

"Wh…why? Why  _ not _ ? It's fun!" Asuka tilted her head, confused. "Don't you like seeing him flustered and everything?" Rei said nothing to that, unsure of exactly how to answer. She wasn't even sure if she liked seeing him, period…but she  _ thought _  she did. It was confusing.

"Am I…supposed to?"

"Don't you know how men and women are supposed to act?" Asuka asked.

"Do you?" Rei replied, curious.

"Of course!" Asuka said triumphantly. "Anything you want to know about how men and women are supposed to be around each other, I can tell you. I have boys falling over themselves to talk to me."

"Including Kaji-san?" Asuka seemed to freeze for a moment.

"Of course," she said. "Why does that surprise you?"

"I didn't say I was surprised," Rei said.

"You sounded surprised," Asuka lied. Wanting to avoid talking about that, she grabbed Rei's wrist and dragged her down the hall. "Come on, let's see where he is!" she said. Rei followed behind, still trying to make sense of the strange German girl.

* * *

Shinji was, at that moment, sitting in one of the debriefing rooms. The monitors displayed the Mount Asama operation, and he watched, over and over, the moment he dove into the magma to grab Unit Two. To grab Asuka. He was trying to understand exactly what it was that made him do that. It wasn't bravery, because he  _ knew _  he wasn't brave. It wasn't exactly that he liked Asuka…well, maybe he did. Or hate her. Or like her. Was there such a thing where you could hate and like a person at the same time?

Why had he done that?

He thought of the conversation he had with Samson. The boy had said there was quality to Shinji. Was that true? He found himself hoping so. Desperately hoping so. He then thought on the rest of that conversation.

_We have to help each other._

Perhaps that was why. They were Pilots, one and all. They only had each other in the end, and if any of them fell…Shinji turned off the monitor, and imagined what would have happened if Asuka was dead. He killed her in his mind, erased her, convinced himself it was fact. The feelings it brought were ugly, distressing. It felt as though an arm had been lopped away. He willed her to life, and did the same with Rei. Again, the same feeling. Distress. Horror. Misery.

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his hands in front of his face and thinking. Thinking hard. Was that why he risked his life? To save Asuka because she was a Pilot? No more? Nothing to do with her triumphant smile, her blue eyes, red hair, the expensive shampoo smell…?

He felt his thoughts wander back to that night he found her in his bed. She had said nothing of it, and he never raised it. Should he? He looked past his fingers, as if the answer was in the air just beyond, and caught sight of his reflection in the monitor. The steepled fingers, his glowering eyes over them…he saw his father staring back.

Squirming to his feet with a shudder, he paced the room nervously. What was wrong with him? Nothing but questions rattled through his mind. He should go home. He was supposed to be on call, but he should go back to the apartment. Maybe play some video games, read a book….

The door slid open, and Asuka swept into the room in a very daring red dress, an article of clothing so feminine that it only highlighted the bullish way she charged in with her shoulders squared. Seeing Shinji, her face broke into a grin, and with astonishing quickness, she adopted a feminine pose. "Shinji!" she sang. "What do you think of my new dress?"

He stammered, completely caught off guard. As he tried to form words, Rei quietly entered the room, the door closing behind her. "You're supposed to be flustered," she said. "If you're feeling flustered, then the dress is working." Asuka's expression went wooden, and she exhaled through her nose in exasperation.

"You don't tell  _ him _  that," she grumbled.

"Uh…I do  _ feel _  flustered," he offered weakly. Asuka rolled her eyes.

"No, it's no fun now. What do you think Kaji will think?" Her expression beamed again, and Shinji couldn't understand why she cared what Kaji would think.

"I guess he'll think it's…nice…." He shrugged. Asuka glared at him, and his mind raced for anything he might say to undo whatever it was he had done.

"Just 'nice?'" Asuka snapped. " _ This _  is just  _ nice _ ? Not 'wow' or 'hummina' or anything like that?"

"Well,  _ I _  was flustered, so maybe he'll be, too," Shinji offered.

"Of course  _ you _  were flustered, you're just a kid," Asuka sniffed. "I want to know what a  _ man _  would think about this."

"Why not ask a man, then?" Shinji asked, confused.

"God, you're boring," she snapped. And then the lights went out. "What's that?" Asuka asked, surprised.

"The power has gone out," Rei observed.

"I can  _ see _  that!" Asuka yelled.

"I can't see anything," Shinji said, perturbed.

"Stop trying to be clever," Asuka mumbled. He heard her stumbling through the room, towards the area of the door. She cursed and muttered, looking for the door switch.

"If the power's off," Shinji asked, "Won't the doors not work?" He heard Asuka stop moving.

"Scheiße," she muttered.

* * *

Misato stepped onto the elevator, rubbing her forehead. Coming back to Nerv HQ only reminded of how much she missed the hot springs, and her skin still felt deliciously tender after the soak. Now that she was back, it was work, work, work. She sighed, wondering what she would have to do to sneak out there again….

She felt her stomach drop into her feet. Kaji was walking towards the elevator. She pushed the DOOR CLOSE button. Nothing happened, so she pressed it harder. He scooted into the elevator, and it closed immediately after he entered. Even the facility was conspiring against her, now. She made a face, crossed her arms, tapped her foot, and refused to look at him. "Hello, Misato-chan," he said through the corner of his mouth. Her expression never changed, but her cheeks went rosy. "Silent treatment? After giving you that great idea for handling the Seventh Angel?"

"Don't call me Misato-chan," she said levelly.

"It's cute when you blush," he offered.

"Stop watching me blush," she snapped.

"Stop blushing." She bit off her response to that, and sucked on her lower lip in agitation.

"Just because we had a good work synthesis on the Seventh Angel doesn't mean you and me are square," she said.

"I think there's still something here, and I think we need to discuss it," Kaji said.

"There's nothing, okay? We had something, we don't anymore, it's over."

"Over?" He seemed surprised.

"Over. Done. Never to happen again," she sniped.

He moved so casually, and so smoothly, she didn't respond until his thigh had pressed against her buttocks, knocking her hips forward and her shoulders back. As she fell, her hands went up to catch her balance. He caught one, and smoothly pulled her towards him. She turned her head in that direction on instinct, and Kaji's lips planted against hers. She trembled, but not in rage. It was desire. It felt as though electricity had burst through her body, and warmth seemed to seep from her lips to her chest, her fingers, her toes. Her breathing quickened and deepened. She felt Kaji's hand grab her other wrist, and she pressed against him, a small moan rising in her throat. The kiss seemed timeless, and part of her wanted it to last forever. Another part of her was screaming for more, for advancement, for the next inevitable steps past that kiss.

The rest of her screamed  _ stop _ .

She turned her head away, still leaning heavily into him and off-balance. He pressed his nose against her ear, and the breath started the whole reaction again. She squirmed away, backing against the elevator wall. Kaji followed her, planting a hand on the wall next to her and leaning over her. She stared at him, and he gazed back serenely with that insufferable, self-confident smirk.

"Don't," she said, her voice strong but warbling.

"For something that's over, that seemed to be a bit heated, don't you think?" he teased.

"I don't want you to do that again," she said. "Don't touch me like that. It's over. It's not going to happen again."

Kaji shrugged. "I think time will-" The lights went out, and the elevator lurched to a halt.

"What did you do?!" she demanded.

"What do you mean, 'what did I do?'" he asked, still calm but slightly hurt. "Do you think I sabotaged the elevators just so we could be stuck in the dark?"

"I'd expect nothing less," Misato hissed, pushing him away and rushing to the intercom. "Hey, is anybody listening?" she asked, hitting the SEND button. She felt her stomach sink: the tell-tale static of a live channel couldn't be heard. The line, like the elevator, was dead. "Oh, no," she mumbled. She was stuck…in an elevator…with Kaji…and no one knew.

 


	11. Who You Are in the Dark

God, it was getting toasty in here.

Misato fanned herself in a futile attempt to stifle the heat, but it was no good. The elevator was just getting warmer and warmer, and what's worse, two people breathing and sweating in the enclosed space were making it more and more muggy. It was unbearable, but there was nothing to be done about it. Though to be fair, it wasn't the heat that bothered her the most.

Across from her, in the dark, she could hear Kaji's breathing. She snuffled in irritation, and began bouncing in place. "That's only going to make it more hot in here," he complained. "Stop that, please."

"I need to get out of here," she said. "Who knows what's going on out there? I'm in charge of Operations, damn it! And here I am stuck in a box with…with you!"

"What's so bad about that? There are worse people you could be stuck with."

"I can't think of any."

"Commander Ikari." She refused to concede that point…even though he did, indeed, had a point. That would be difficult to deal with…though the more she thought about it, the more she felt that Gendo Ikari would be a better cell-mate than Kaji. At least he would be silent.

It was then that she heard a belt buckle being undone. "What…what are you doing!?" she snapped, backing up against the wall.

"It's hot, so I'm taking off my clothes," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, with just a touch of irritation.

"Stop that! What's gotten into you? This is intolerable," she cried out, trying to will herself through the steel bulkhead behind her. Kaji grumbled to himself.

"What does it matter? First off, you've already seen  _ everything _ , and second off, you can't see  _ anything _ …I can't see my hand in front of my face." She heard the rustle of fabric. "You stay on your end, and you won't have to deal with me." He sighed. "That feels  _ so _  much better."

"You could be doing  _ anything _  over there right now, you creep," she hissed.

"You should shuck your clothes, too," he said with just a hint of teasing. "It really does make it a lot more bearable."

"You wish," she snapped. "All men are perverts, and you're at the top of the heap. I'm not giving you any more ammo for your twisted fantasies," she grouched, wiping sweat out of her eyes. For a long time, no one said anything.

"Hey, Misato," he said.

"What?"

"What am I doing  _ now _ ?"

"Shut up!" she snapped, removing her jacket. God, it was getting toasty in here….

* * *

"Try harder!" Asuka screamed, trying to force the door open. Shinji was grunting, and she heard a sliding sound as his feet lost their purchase. He had been working at the manual crank for twenty minutes now, except that it was either locked, or sealed, or just very well tightened.

"It's…not moving!" he whined.

"Get away!" Asuka snapped, kicking at where she  _ thought _  he was and connected with something. He yelped, and backed off. She groped for the crank, found it, and tried it. She had a slew of insults ready to comment on Shinji's weakness, but they all died when she found that the stupid thing just…wouldn't… _ move.  _ She gave up, glancing around. "Air vent. We'll use an air vent, like in the movies…."

"In the center of the ceiling," Shinji sighed. This room had ten feet of space between the floor and ceiling, so unless they all became trapeze artists, they were not exiting that way.

"Mein Gott, bin ich von  _ Idioten _  umgeben," she growled. He heard her huff, and slide down the wall next to the door. "This is stupid, stupid,  _ stupid _ !"

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Shinji reasoned. "Maybe we should just wait for someone to find us."

"That's unacceptable!" she snapped. "We're Pilots! We should be out there, not trapped in a box like this!"

"It's not a box, it's a room," Shinji protested.

"It's a box! It's a box, and we're trapped in it!" Asuka snapped. It was bizarre hearing her talk that way. Was she frightened?

"You keep screaming about it, but there's nothing we can do to change it," Shinji complained. "We just have to wait."

"That doesn't change the fact that we need to get out of here. Right now, we have to get out of here."

"Are you saying that because you're afraid of the dark?" Shinji asked in irritation, and immediately regretted it. Asuka said nothing, and he couldn't tell if she was angry, or if she didn't want to say anything with Rei in the room, or if she was ignoring him.

"Go to hell," she finally whispered. Shinji winced when she said that, and looked down at his hands.

"Man fears the darkness, and so he scrapes away at the edges of it with fire," Rei murmured.

"What?" Asuka snapped, but Rei said no more. "What was that supposed to mean? Is that a crack about what Shinji said?"

"I don't think-"

"Shut up!" she snapped. There was a quiver in her voice, and it sounded like panic. She said no more, and Shinji wanted to talk to her…to say something, anything. But what could he say? There was one thing pressing on his mind: Shinji wanted to ask her about that night, why she had come to his bed. What that had meant, what had driven that. Was it fear? Loneliness? Was she just being hard to read, as usual? He wanted to ask her…but didn't.

Asuka, for her part, quivered against the steel door. She could control it, from time to time…but she was afraid of the dark. She was afraid of the emptiness in front of her, the emptiness that highlighted how utterly alone she was. Drifting free and meaningless, devoid of any purpose except what she gave herself. She was Asuka Langley Soryu, and she was alone.

Rei pondered none of these things. She failed to detect the tension in the room, and offered her single comment on the affairs present. Man was as man was, afraid of what he could not understand, afraid of what may or may not consume him. The whole of the struggle of man was one long battle against elements of the universe beyond his control, and the struggle would seem doomed to failure if not time and again, the organism of man survived if just by the skin of his teeth. Sitting here, in the dark, the thought occurred to her. She felt compelled to voice it.

Her thoughts returned to Grendel, however, if indeed it was Grendel she had contacted. The bizarre messages, free from any context or understanding…what had they meant? If she had been anybody else, she would have asked the other children present for their thoughts. But she didn't. Because it never occurred to her to ask.

So the Three Children sat there, together but alone. Always alone.

* * *

The Americans were all running a start-up test on Grendel when the power cut. The Eva was already 'active' via its umbilical, and its two-minute timer started almost immediately. It lurched in its restraints, and there was a very real fear it would collapse. Its holding pen had been drained of LCL for the purpose of the test.

"Shut that down," the crew chief, a Master Sergeant named Zeel snapped. It was cut at one minute, fifty-three seconds. Emergency lights flooded the chamber, powered from portable generators strung throughout the superstructure. "What the hell is going on?" he roared, turning from his console.

"Damned if I know, Master S'arnt," someone called back. "Looks like we dropped off the grid."

"Was it us, or them?" he asked.

"What do you, Master S'arnt?" the same voice called.

"I mean, _idiot_ , did we blow our own power or did Nerv shut it off?" Zeel roared.

"Don't know yet, but there's a lot of chatter on the radio. Don't speak Japanese, though…."

"Aw, for crying…who speaks Japanese?"

"I do. They say the same thing…the entire GeoFront is off-line." Zeel suddenly shivered, thinking of what an Angel could do if they hit the GeoFront right now. Without power….

"The elevators," he asked. "The main hanger catapults. Are those working?" There was a tense silence as shadows scurried among the the lower portions of the hanger, working by the light of emergency lamps.

"Emergency charges are still lit, Master S'arnt," a woman called from far below. "We can launch if we have to."

"Thank God," Zeel said, rubbing his forehead. The charges were essentially high-grade rockets, linked to a layered system of trip wires all the way to the surface. As the Eva was lobbed towards the surface, each trip wire would manually blow the pneumatics restraining the blast doors above. It would be a hell of a ride up, and destroy the launch tube for any use after until extensive repairs had been made. Faced between that and dying under the ground, however, hefty repairs were a small concern.

"How goes it, Zeely?" someone called, and the older man made a face.

"Come on, sir, a  _ little _ respect?" he sighed, crossing his arms and glaring at the young lieutenant walking up. The lanky man winked at him.

"Come on, I don't call just  _ anybody _  'Zeely,'" he said, rubbing at his shaved scalp. The NCO scoffed, shaking his head. First Lieutenant Eddy Cooper was a Signals officer who commissioned via a Master's in Computer Sciences, into the Army Reserve. He tended to be…bohemian, for a soldier. In his former civilian life, he was a security expert for one of the larger technology firms on the East Coast. He had been specifically headhunted for this little deployment.

His transition into this new role had been rocky, or at least  _ should _  have been. The first time he called Zeel 'Zeely,' the Master Sergeant had taken him aside and politely stripped the paint from the walls, as he had many a young lieutenant before. Except that it didn't work, with Cooper. He listened, smiled, and said, "No prob, Zeely," and left the man sputtering in place. From then on, their relationship had reached a sort of equilibrium, for what it was worth.

"What do you want, sir?" Zeel sighed.

"I see you've got your hands full here, but we have a slight concern."

"Slight?"

"You hit on the issue with the emergency charges, but that won't mean squat unless there's a CIC for Grendel to call on."

Zeel nodded. "Actually, I  _ had _  been wondering about that. One thing at a time, though…we've go to ensure that we can  _ launch _  the thing in the first place."

"So we have no support network up?"

"Outside of Magi? Well…we've got our subsystems up, right here. All of these are on their own generators, for the time being. We could rig them up into something, if we needed to."

"All right…we'll need a temp station, right…um…." Cooper scanned the hangers, and caught sight of the observation deck. "Up there. We can set up batteries while moving portable generators, and reactivate Grendel's wireless net while Magi is still off-line. It'll be like running a rocket with a calculator, but I think I could manage, if things went sideways."

"Can you run a rocket with a calculator?"

"I could run the whole moon mission with a penny whistle and a telephone," Cooper said through a grin.

"Oh, hubris. I wonder what that tastes like," a lady corporal said as she passed by.

"Bacon, mostly, with a dash of bourbon," Cooper called after her. "How soon do you think we can get that set up?"

"I'll earmark some people to set it up, now, sir," Zeel said.

"That's why I like you, Zeely."

"Please stop calling me that, sir."

* * *

Gendo slowly paced back and forth on the Bridge, ignoring the building heat. Self-powered emergency lights were up, but that was all. Magi was down, defenses down, everything was down. It was all too convenient for a power surge or power failure. Too timed, too surgical…too pat.

His suspicions were rankled, and he wondered if, perhaps…there was Lorenz's hand print on this mess. It seemed a self-inflicted wound, to hurt him while taking down Nerv. The Angels had the potential to succeed in that scenario, but would Lorenz be spiteful enough to risk the end of the world just to shame and humiliate Gendo?

Possibly. "Sabotage," he finally breathed. Fuyutsuki nodded.

"It has to be," he agreed. "Considering the total loss of power with no backups…."

"The Americans?" Gendo asked, but Fuyutsuki shook his head.

"Not their style, I would think. They're here to observe because they know nothing about us. Why sabotage when they're still learning?"

"To see how we respond, of course, but I take your meaning."

"Terrorists, perhaps? Or…a third party?" Fuyutsuki was careful in what he said, in the presence of others. It was exactly what Gendo had considered, but he shrugged.

"Maybe, maybe not…," but he trailed off as one of the Nerv techs approached them with a radio in his hand.

"What is it?" Fuyutsuki asked.

"We have a problem, sir," the tech said. "Reports from the surface over the radios." Gendo nodded, knowing what the man would say next. "There's an Angel inbound."

 


	12. Itsy

"Where are the Children?" Gendo asked.

"We can't find them, or Capt. Katsuragi," Maya said. "It's possible that they've been trapped by the black out."

"Possible, or confirmed?" Fuyutsuki asked.

"Sir, we have no way of confirming," Maya said helplessly. "This is about as close to a complete systems failure as we can get."

"They aren't here, and that's the crux of it," Gendo said, "And what's more, we may not be able to launch any of our Evas in a timely manner, nor can we ensure they'll be powered once they move."

"Ours can."

Eyes turned toward Maj. Ennis, who had appeared on the bridge as if by magic. "We're currently completing a backup command station in the observation deck near the hanger. And we have power for Grendel."

"Power?" Fuyutsuki asked, surprised.

"I've been told the emergency batteries are on line, with two minutes of time for combat. Emergency charges in the launch gantry are on-line, too."

"Can we guarantee that two minutes is all that's needed to defeat the Angel?" Fuyutsuki queried.

"No, but what choice do we have? We can't coordinate external forces without power, and what's more, do we want to risk sending them against an Angel? Two minutes with a weakened Eva is better than no response at all."

"The Pilot?" Maya asked, too surprised to remember her rank. Ennis didn't seem to notice.

"Capt. Merritt is on route to the hanger right now," Ennis said, waggling a radio in his hand.

Gendo closed his eyes. When you were in the debtor's pocket, you were in his power. Giving in now would make the Americans necessary, and from there, no telling where they could curl their claws in next. But…what choice did he have? Events had conspired against him.

"Fine," he conceded, "Inform your crew that we…will need their assistance."

* * *

The Plug Suit Samson utilized was over-layered and armored, partially for defense of the Pilot should he eject. Primarily, it was to protect the more fragile sympathetic wiring inside the suit necessary to slave Grendel to the Pilot's movements. The Japanese models were far more durable, so the American one had to make a payoff, somewhere. This meant that, unlike the Japanese suits, the American suit was not one-size fits all. It had to be tailored to Samson, due to the armor plating. It also meant it took longer to gear up.

"Now, remember, you only have 1 minute 53 seconds of power. All start up systems and tertiary computer systems won't be drawing on the main emergency cells, so you can still begin the initialization sequence," Merritt was saying. She stood across from him in the locker room, lighting his movements with a flashlight. He showed no shame in her presence as he disrobed and donned the Plug Suit. The interior felt slick to the touch, the strange sensation of the internal membrane puckering against his skin. With practiced motions, he zipped up the rear, and attached the clam-shell chest piece. "Do you have any questions?"

"None come to mind," he said mechanically, retrieving the Interface Helmet from the locker. Two long cables trailed from the single-piece, black helm. With its glossy finish, it had the unnerving look of a single eye when worn.

"Good. Let's get moving, then," Merritt said. The two of them exited the locker room, and were escorted down the tunnel to the loading bay. The Plug to Grendel was waiting, with a crew to manually crank it into place. Samson was assisted into the Plug, two technicians entering with him to begin attaching the various wires and connections needed to pilot Grendel. One assisted Samson into the helmet, then attached the two wires to a pair hanging and waiting. Until the LCL filled the space, the tangle of wires would be constricting and problematic. Samson reclined, hanging free in the web and watching the technicians exit. The hatch sealed, leaving him in darkness. He heard the slosh of liquid, and LCL began to flow past his legs, filling at a rapid pace. In a very short span of time, the entirety of the Plug was filled. He felt the Plug move as the ground crew began to crank it into the Grendel's Port. It felt like hours until the Plug stopped moving, and a small hum seemed to fill the air. The LCL seemed to take a new form, liquid and gaseous at the same time. He drifted inside the wires, feeling them recede away as current and pressure began to move him into an optimal position. Lights began to flicker in the space, and an orange glow encompassed him. The HUD within his helmet winked on, and he watched as more computers flickered on one by one.

It was then that a numbing sensation crawled over his skull as the Integration Helmet linked to the behemoth around him. Any moment, the jump would be made, and the conversation would begin, as always. It was wearying, but inevitable. Sure as sure, a quiet, meek voice called to him from the darkness.

_ Is it time? _

_ No, _ he thought , in irritation _ ,  It's not time. Stop asking, it will never  BE  time. _

_ But…I'm so…please let it be… _

_ SHUT UP! _

_ Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry  _ the voice pleaded, recognizing his presence at last.

_ Stop apologizing. We have a threat _ , he thought.

_ A…threat? An Angel? Are…are we going to fight? _

_ Of course we are. It's what we're built for _ , he sneered in his mind.

_ But…are we…um…. _

_ Stop stuttering! _  He lashed out, and the presence receded a bit, cowering before him. He bit his tongue, and thought soothing images.  _ Calm down, now. You're with me. Have I ever failed you before? _

_ No, no… _

_ Don't you trust me? I'll take care of you. I always take care of you. Don't I? _

_ Y..yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. _

_ Good. Begin the start-up sequence. _

_ Sequence…initialized, _ t he voice replied reluctantly. It was then that he felt his limbs…grow. His legs stiffen. It was then that he  _ became... _ Grendel….

* * *

Cooper popped his knuckles, watching the start-up reflected on his monitors. Four had been set up, one next to the other, cables trailing from the portable units. A wireless link-up, running from the same generators, would allow for communication with Grendel at all times.

"We're about ready, sir," Zeel called over the radio.

"Roger, Zeely, get your people clear of the hanger and we'll send Grendel up." Up to what, he didn't know. They were getting verbal communications on where the Angel was moving, but that was precious little information. He updated it as he could, but he would have to rely on Grendel's sensors to feed information to his console. "This is going to be interesting," he mumbled, his hand dancing over the keyboard. "Fourth Child, are you ready?"

"Initialization beginning at pace," the boy said, almost sleepy. "I'd say ten more seconds, and we're linked."

"Good. Remember, limited time to take down the target," Cooper warned.

"Limited time, no problem," Samson said.  _ No problem, of  _ course. Cooper grinned, watching the systems of Grendel light green, green, green on his monitor. "Five seconds…three…ernh…." Samson grunted as the sympathetic resonance was total. Unlike Units Zero through Two, there was no percentage field necessary to fill for a Pilot synchronization, as the entire process was more or less "forced." Watching the Eva shudder, Cooper wondered if it wasn't painful for it. It was certainly uncomfortable on the Pilot. "Complete," Samson sighed, almost dreamily. "Launch when ready."

"Is the hanger clear?" Cooper asked into his portable radio.

"We're clear. Launch when ready," Zeel called. Cooper leaned over and slapped a panel placed next to his console. The room shuddered as the emergency charges blew, and slowly, Grendel began to rise. Its speed gradually increased, until it disappeared through the roof. As it flew upwards, the hatch charges exploded, allowing the doors to open under their own weight. Soon, Grendel was zipping through them, as fast as the pneumatics would have pushed it. Grendel rose, and the room in front of Cooper filled with smoke and flame.

* * *

Samson  _ felt _  the heat from the charges, the rush of movement. He was heading up, faster and faster, and his stomach twisted at the sensation. Did he feel fear? No…no, but he did feel anticipation. Longing. Excitement. Hunger. Light suddenly blinded him, and he felt a free-floating sensation as Grendel rose a hundred and fifty feet into the air on momentum.

"Emergency batteries on line," Cooper snapped, "Power beginning at 1 minute, 53 seconds. Do you see the target?"

The countdown timer appeared in the corner of Samson's vision, and he braced his legs, allowing Grendel to collapse and land in a combat crouch. He turned his head left, and then right. To his surprise and pleasure, the Angel was remarkably close. It looked like a daddy-long legs, with a hulking triangular body in the center of four spindly legs. It seemed unaware of the threat that had arrived, trundling along on a course parallel to Grendel. Samson scrolled through his weapons, and giggled to himself. "Everything all right?" Cooper asked.

"The Itsy-Bitsy Spider, went up the water-spout," Samson mumbled, "Down came the pain, and tore the Spider out." Hmm…Daisy-Cutters would be a good choice.

"What the hell are you muttering about, Pilot?" Cooper asked. Samson ignored him, bringing up the Daisy-Cutters.

"Out came the fun, and we had more of the same…." The targeting reticule locked on. "And the Itsy-Bitsy Spider learned about the pain." Samson willed it, and one-hundred Daisy-Cutter grenades launched from the forward shoulder pads, great, sweeping arcs of white smoke trailing towards the beast. At one hundred meters, point-blank range, they cut and dimpled the green hide of the Angel with sub-munitions, each one carrying twenty smaller rocket-propelled armor-piercing explosives. Two thousand explosions pock-marked the surface, and a crack formed down the hide. The beast bellowed, and red LCL began to seep through the cracks. It stumbled from the assault.

"There's no AT Field detected. Repeat, no AT Field detected," Cooper called, and Grendel sprinted forward. Samson could  _ see _  that, and his blood-lust was rising. He was practically drooling.

_ Cutitcutitcutitcutit…. _

Samson grinned feral, saliva flecking the interior of the helmet.  _ You don't reload bayonets _ . As he thought that phrase, the Integrated Multitool flicked up into Grendel's left hand. Essentially a much longer Progressive Knife, it was intended for multiple uses, like a true combat knife for a foot soldier. It was called Tickler by the ground crews. It was, for all intents and purposes, a bayonet…longer than a knife, shorter than a machete.

_ What's the purpose of the bayonet? _  Something, somewhere asked the question, and Samson screamed with glee as he launched into the air and stabbed down on the dying creature.

"To kill, kill, kill, kill, kill…," he chanted, cutting into the Angel, seeking its core. The thing squealed and bucked under him. If he was himself, he would have wondered why it didn't fight back. Why this battle had been so easy…but he wasn't himself. He was cutting, and there was no end.

* * *

"The Ninth Angel has been defeated," the radio said. As if one cue, the power came back up, and the screens showed Magi's sigil as it began rebooting. Convenient. Gendo hardly believed in convenience, nor did he believe in coincidence. It seemed that the power failure had been timed to coincide with the Angel's arrival. A plot by the Americans? No. They had no way of knowing when and how the Angels would appear. Others might, however. Gendo scowled, pondering the implications, but it was difficult to pin them down. All he knew was that the Americans had killed an Angel, in the midst of a shockingly weak moment for Nerv.

The Angel, though...that was stranger. No AT Field? Clearly it was using one, for how else could it support its mass? Did it simply not consider Grendel a threat? Impossible. So...why the lack of the AT Field?

He listened to the background of radio chatter as Nerv personnel began the clean-up procedures and backtracking, to determine the cause of the blackout. He would be eager to see what they're findings would be, but in the meantime, he would have to deal with Maj. Ennis. And, by default, the new role of the Americans in Nerv's policies.

* * *

In one of the briefing rooms, the lights kicked on. Three children hardly noticed, asleep and lost in dark dreams. Somehow, they had coalesced together, and were asleep in a pile. Their movement had been unconscious, and part of that strange instinct that drove humans to seek warmth when there was none, companionship where it was lacking. When they awoke, they would stare at each other in surprise, or shame, or confusion. If they felt that at all. In the meantime, they slept. There was no warmth to be found from it, for they were alone. They were always alone.

* * *

An elevator opened, summoned by a technician heading to the level above. It opened, and he was about to enter when Misato walked out, her expression flat and her hair frazzled and dripping. She was in her undergarments, and her clothes were clumped in a pile under one arm. Without giving the tech so much as a glance, she stormed away, with what little dignity she could muster. The man glanced in, and saw Kaji standing there in his boxers, his clothes under an arm as well. His hair was just as much a mess, and he looked exhausted.

"Which floor?" he asked the tech.

* * *

"Good performance," Gendo mumbled, "If a bit…enthusiastic."

"Isn't that a good thing? To be eager to close with and destroy the enemy?" Ennis asked, but he silently fumed. Samson was back to his… _normal_ self, calm, cool, and confident. The Pilot logs, though, had demonstrated slips. Major slips. Kill, kill, kill, indeed….

"I am glad…to see the American Eva is now up and working," Gendo finally conceded. "And we do have to…thank you for saving us. With the power failure, our staff was divided, trapped, unable to quickly get to where they were needed. You and your team…their close proximity to each other…was a benefit." The man was drawing out his words, but he was making an effort, for what it was worth.

Ennis shrugged. "It is what it is, and as you no doubt know, this Angel demonstrated significant weaknesses compared to others. I don't know why it didn't project an AT Field, but it was hardly a challenge for Grendel. Hardly a challenge for anyone, in fact…I imagine the JSSDF could have taken it down with conventional weaponry."

"Possibly," Gendo mused. That question still lingered in his mind. The Ninth Angel had hardly been a threat, if not for the power failure. That in itself was odd...unless....

Could the power failure have been intended to  _ compound _  the Angel? The Dead Sea Scrolls...he knew of what was within, but it was possible he had not seen  _ all _  of them. Could there be something within indicating more about the Angels than their arrivals and cryptic descriptions?

He blinked, filing the thought away. "Regardless," he said, "I admit that the Grendel Unit performed exceptionally well. Defeated the enemy with 42 seconds to spare. That's quite the testament to its capability...as well as the skills of the Pilot."

"Speaking of Pilots, how are the Children?" Ennis asked.

 _Was that true concern, or forced?_ Gendo thought. It was hard to tell. "Found in a briefing room. According to them, they had fallen asleep. They were sealed in when the power went off. An unfortunate set-back," Gendo murmured.

"Unfortunate, but at least no one was hurt," Ennis said.

"Yes... _quite_ fortunate, that," Gendo murmured. No one was hurt...for what it was worth....

* * *

The table in the room was surrounded by the heads of the various intelligence agencies involved in the effort to infiltrate Nerv, including the Secretary of Defense, the National Security Adviser, the Head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and the President of the United States. All sat around the table as relative equals, but it was an inquisition all the same. Gunner Tate was glad his fat wasn't in the fryer this time.

Kafkutz was another story.

"What the hell is this?" the President asked, tapping the folder in front of him. Kafkutz looked bored, and Tate wondered how a man could be so calm under these circumstances.

"He was enthusiastic," Kafkutz said.

"He was  _ kill crazy _ ," the President snapped. "That's combined with his apparent slips in personality, along with the request for Dr. Sefka's presence in the operation. We've been inundated with multiple memorandums on why he  _ shouldn't _  be there."

"We do have a medical staff leaving under a cover story, Mr. President," Kafkutz reasoned.

"That's not acceptable," the Chief-Executive snapped. "Let me be frank: this is an operation to gather information, from an organization that may or may not pose a threat to our nation. And while we're on the topic, let me be even  _ more _  frank: the Japanese are our allies. We are not spying or conducting operations against  _ them _ , but against Nerv and this Seele group. Would you like to tell me what happens if this boy decides to forget where he is when inside Grendel?"

"That won't happen," Kafkutz insisted, "He has several subconscious locks in place to prevent him from performing an action such as that. And the fact of the matter is, you wanted a Pilot candidate who would work to our advantage. This is it. It would be too difficult and too unrealistic to find a fourteen year old child outside of our black programs to fit the bill without an extensive and very-easy-to-spot operation. And the only other group we could go to for candidates and candidate profiling is the Marduk Institute, who assuredly work for Seele. This is what we need, right here, Mr. President."

"I can't help feeling, though, that you've assigned a nuclear warhead to a mission where a spy drone is needed," the President retorted. "I don't want this to move sideways, do you understand? There is no collateral from this. Period."

"Understood, Mr. President," Kafkutz said.

* * *

"I don't like it, I still don't like it," the President complained. Secretary of Defense Irene Babbet and Tate sat in the side-room of the Oval Office with him, drinking tea.

"You did sign off on it, though, Mr. President," Tate said.

"I wish to hell I hadn't, but we're in too deep now to just cut and run," he grumbled. "The Deveraux Intiative…that's where we got this Samson kid, right?"

"Yeah. Orphans as soldiers. Before our time," Tate explained. "You can't just close and be rid of something like that. Even after closing all that down, you can't integrate children like that into society."

"It bothers me…that we don't know very much about it," the President sighed.

"What bothers me is that I've put feelers out for it, and nothing has come back," Babbet murmured. "What does it mean when the Secretary of Defense gets blackballed?"

"It means someone somewhere is doing their damnedest to hide something illegal from those who can do something about it," the President snapped. "Keep hitting away, okay?"

"Of course, Mr. President," she replied.

"And as for you," the President said, pointing a finger at Tate, "I want you to be my direct line to Ennis. I know it's not in your purview, but…."

"I understand, Mr. President," the NSA said. "This whole thing is all sorts of strange. Is the CIA okay with that, though?"

"I spoke with the Director, and he's fine on it. He has other things on his plate, frankly," the President said. "That business in Germany…." Tate nodded. "To be honest, I'm surprised this hasn't become more of an issue."

"We have so many people and agencies involved in this, I'm surprised no one's leaked it by accident," Tate sighed. He sipped his tea, thinking it would be better with some Irish flavoring, but that was the stress talking. He was feeling more stress, each day, looking at Ennis' reports. This entire operation was hinging on the ability of a single child to behave like a child, and it looked like it was taking all of Capt. Merritt's effort to keep him acting like a human, much less a kid. Something was going to cave somewhere…the question was when, and who it would rain on when it happened.

 


	13. Nocturnal

Shinji sat on a stool in a vast, gray field. The sky above him was dark and violent. There was no thunder, nor wind, but the sound of a great, vast breathing. It reverberated through his head, in and around him.

He was nude, and cold. It ached inside, it ached in a way he couldn't remember. His hands explored his chest, trying to find some way to ease the pressure, the pain, the dull _ache_. He felt eyes upon him, and looked up to see a small boy standing before him. He recognized the boy, for it was himself when he was four.

"Does it hurt?" the child asked.

"Yes," Shinji whimpered.

"You should remove it," the child said.

"How?"

"You know how."

Shinji nodded. He did know. He did. Slowly, carefully, he inserted his fingers into his flesh, up to the knuckles, then the palms. Breathing in surprise, he opened his torso. The flesh and the bones folded outward like wings, and there it was. The _source..._ the source of the pain. It was so bright, a small sun inside his being.

"It hurts to look at," he gasped, feeling his fingers tingle from the energy emanating from it.

"You need to remove it," the child said.

"Uh…I don't…I think I shouldn't," Shinji gasped. Seeing it now, seeing the cause of his pain…he didn't think he needed to take it away. It seemed that it was supposed to be there. It  _ needed _  to be there.

"Take it out," the child said, "It only makes you weak. You don't want to be weak. If you are weak, you are useless. If you are useless, no one will want you anymore."

"They'll only want to use me," Shinji pleaded, "They won't want me for me…they'll use me and throw me away when they're done."

"Only when you aren't useful," the child said. "As long as you are useful, they will aways want you. They will always need you. And  _ you _  can throw  _ them _  away when you're done." The child smiled. "Isn't that what you want? To control your own life?"

Shinji glanced down at the light, and folded his hands over it protectively. "I…I'm not sure." Looking up, Shinji winced, for the child was no longer there. In his place, Samson Creed stood, leering and maniacal.

"Do you think I would hurt you?" the boy said, and the pain took Shinji.

* * *

Shinji woke with a start, feeling wet from head to toe. He had sweat through his t-shirt, and his blankets were soppy, as though he had been swimming. His skin prickled, and he felt uncomfortable. He squirmed, and sat up. As he did, he heard a murmuring next to him, and he realized that there was _skin_ against his own, soft and warm. He looked over, and saw that Asuka had crawled into bed with him again.

It was happening with a certain frequency now, to the point that it no longer shocked or surprised him. In a strange way, it comforted him. There was no other way in which they seemed to understand or connect with each other. For some reason, he felt it was exceedingly important to find a connection with her, but he didn't know how to. Maybe she didn't, either. It was a dangerous thing to assume that she even wanted to, but…if she was so desperate to be alone, why was she here?

He slipped out of the blankets, and hurried across his floor to the door. Creeping into the hallway, he glanced back at the sleeping form of Asuka. Why did she come here every night? Why sleep next to him if she wanted to push him away?

Why did he dream about Samson?

He slipped into the bathroom, and closed the door behind him. He turned on the sink, and let the cold water run. The dreams had become more frequent, and more awful. Sometimes, he would wake up, and see Asuka, and go back to sleep. He would sleep a dreamless sleep, and awake in the morning alone. Sometimes, that worked.

Sometimes, it didn't. The dream would linger, and chase him into wakefulness. He scrubbed his face, and mumbled to himself. Samson was a new addition to the nightmares, and he wasn't sure what that meant. He wasn't sure what any of it meant.

Scratching his scalp, he sighed and decided to go back to bed. He opened the bathroom door, and almost ran into Asuka. She gasped, looking as though she had been caught in the midst of committing a crime.

For an awkward moment, they both simply stood and stared at each other. Shinji had no clue what to say, or do, and he had the feeling that Asuka didn't, either. For as long as she had been sleeping in his bed, she had always left in the morning, before he would have woken up. As far as she knew, he didn't know. He didn't know she had been sleeping there. Now, he did.

Of course, she didn't know that he had  _ already _  known before waking up to go the bathroom and finding his space empty. That did nothing to alleviate her awkwardness.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Shinji finally asked. Her expression became aloof, and she crossed her arms.

"Don't be vulgar," she mumbled.

"How is that vulgar?" he asked. Her lips tightened, and it occurred to him that she had said the first retort to come to mind, whether it applied or not.

"Nothing happened in there, all right?" she snapped. "You don't get to go bragging to anyone about that. It didn't mean anything, and it was just tonight…."

"It's been two weeks," Shinji said impulsively. Asuka's eyes popped open, and her mouth worked without sound for a moment. Shinji wasn't sure what to do, and he felt a sweat start in the small of his back. He became very afraid for a moment, and swallowed on a dry mouth. "I never told anyone," he said, "Why would I?"

Asuka shook her head, looking furious. Shinji didn't know why, and he had felt he had done something wrong. The feeling irritated him; he didn't like feeling guilty without knowing why.

"You think you're something special, don't you?" she snapped, "I get bored, okay? I was bored."

"Um…I get…lonely, too," Shinji said awkwardly. She looked at him.

"What does that mean?"

"I just thought…you did that because you were lonely," Shinji said. "It's okay, you know."

"I don't _get_ lonely," she snapped, moving as if to push past him. She didn't, and remained in place. It looked as if she had more to say, and was trying to phrase it the right way. "And if I did," she finally managed, "I wouldn't look for company with an immature brat like you. What makes you think that a little _boy_ would interest me?"

That sounded like two completely different things, somehow, but both hurt Shinji. He glared at her, and she shifted under the eyes.

"Why are you awake, anyway?" Asuka finally grumped. Shinji looked at her suspiciously.

"I had a nightmare," he said.

"Is that all?" Asuka said. "One nightmare, and you're up and about?"

"I've had nightmares ever since I moved here."

"Every…every night?"

"Every night," he said.

"Hmm," she murmured. "They're no big deal. If you can't deal with a nightmare or two, how can you expect to deal with the Angels?" She was turning it back around on him, and he huffed.

"Whatever," he mumbled, and pushed roughly past her. She squeaked, surprised by the sudden, belligerent movement. He turned and looked back at Asuka, who remained standing in the dining room. He felt guilty, now, and wanted to fix it somehow. "Um…if it helps you sleep better, you should come back. I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable."

"No, it's fine…I mean…." She had spoken without thinking about it, and blushed. "Just…." It was a strange sensation, seeing Asuka standing there looking so indecisive. He did not think she would be so unable to make a simple decision. Even if the outcome was disastrous, Asuka would make up her mind and carry through with it, consequences be damned. This was…odd. It was as though he was seeing her without clothes on, and he felt embarrassed. There were no guards up, and it seemed she had the same sensation.

Shinji looked down, and walked back into his room. He crawled under his blankets, and lay still, begging for sleep to come. It didn't.

After a time, he heard Asuka enter the room, and felt her slide onto the other side of the bed. "Don't say a word," she hissed. He didn't, and they slept the whole night through, each facing their own side of the room.

Neither one dreamed that night.

 


	14. Aftermath

"I think we should send him now."

Keel Lorenz gazed at the Walloon through his eyelashes. The man from Belgium had a hungry look about him, one that made even Lorenz feel a note of agitation. Still, it was Lorenz who was in charge, and that was a trump card that could never be overplayed.

"A new Pilot, with the Americans so fresh on their recent victory? No, it would only confuse things. It might make the situation more difficult to read, not less."

Richambeau made a rude sound, then sucked through his teeth. "Confusion is just what we need, Lorenz. Confusion breeds opportunity, and a chance to clean house in Japan and ensure that we are still on course for a successful conclusion of the Project."

"You're confusing opportunity with chaos," Lorenz grumbled, glancing past the Walloon to Piter as he entered the room. "What tidings do you bring, Piter?"

"A new group of Americans has arrived at the GeoFront," Piter said, "We traced their movements back to their origin, and that was no easy task. They hid their movement very well. Very well, indeed."

"What was the origin point?"

"Langley, Virginia," Piter said. "All of them civilians. What do you make of that?"

Lorenz raised his eyebrows in thought. "The first American sortie is a solo victory against an Angel…the Pilot loses himself in killing it…hmm. I would say that they're sending a team to ensure he doesn't 'go off the reservation,' as the Yankees would say." He fixed Richambeau with a scrutinizing eye. "And all the more reason to keep playing it safe. This Samson is a dangerous prospect. Anymore information about the Fourth Child?"

"No, none that we can find yet," Piter conceded.

"What about this third player and their goals? Anything?"

"Nothing substantial, but the head of the American group that I mentioned? Dr. Nicholas Colin. Bright promising future as a geneticist at Yale, disappears off the grid. This is the first time he's come back on the radar."

"The rest?"

"No-names. Flunkies. Too young or too low on the totem pole to mean anything. This Colin may be our angle in."

"We have people working on it?"

"Ruthlessly."

"Good," Lorenz nodded, leaning back in satisfaction. "Richambeau," he sighed. "What do the Scrolls have next on the agenda?"

"Sahaquiel," Richambeau said, "A 'great doom from above,' so we interpret that as being an orbital assault. There is a concern, though."

"A concern?"

"The timing is wrong," Richambeau hissed. "Israfel appeared too early, as did Matarael. The texts were accurate down to the minute up to the appearance of Gaghiel. For something so old to be so astronomically accurate, and then deviate…."

"That's a problem," Lorenz agreed. He rubbed his hands together, and nodded. He had reached a decision.

"I'm not sending him, but I am _consulting_ him. I'll meet with Tabris."

* * *

The boy was angelic in his appearance, though oddly familiar. For Lorenz, it was like looking into a mirror, one that pointed back to a time he little remembered now. The child in front of him was like the Rei Ayanami child, in general physical appearance: the bluish-gray hair, the marble skin and red eyes. Despite that, he still looked like a frail, almost girlish boy.

It was easy to forget that there was a god living there.

"Kaworu," Lorenz said as the child entered the office.

"Lorenz," the child said quietly, with an odd mixture of reverence, disdain, amusement…it was as though it was trying to find the right note to start the meeting on, and decided to just chuck it all out to chance.

"You've been updated on the situation in Tokyo-3, yes?" Lorenz asked.

"Of course," Kaworu replied.

"And you've noted the rate at which the Angels are attacking?"

"Yes."

"It doesn't match up to the projections we've received from the Scrolls," Lorenz said. "Did you notice that?"

"You expect me to spell it out?" Kaworu asked playfully.

"Well, no," Lorenz conceded, "But things have become erratic, and the Committee would like to know that the Angels are on their way to eventual victory."

"Third Impact will happen as it was meant to, of that you can be assured," Kaworu said, but he seemed distant when he said it. Lorenz was uncomfortable with that. Did it indicate that Tabris suspected the lies of Seele? That the humans might have their own plan for Instrumentality that did not figure in with the desires of the Angels?

"You seem troubled by something," Lorenz asked. "You know you can trust me." Lorenz gave a gentle smile, and Kaworu mumbled. He may be a god…but he was still a child, a human boy with human frailty.

"Sometimes…the water is muddy," Kaworu admitted, shyly. "It…it doesn't happen often. I can still see the path clearly, leading to Shinji Ikari."

"He is still the key to this?"

"Yes, yes he is. But…something is in the way. It's confusing things…making events…um…erratic." The boy seemed to drift away, no longer in the room. "It's like a swarm, or a cloud. Many people who don't belong are wandering through the path…they are diluting it." He shook his head. "Something has changed, but I can't tell."

"So…the plan is no longer feasible. Is that what you are saying? Are the Scrolls then adjusting to respond to these…extra players?"

"I…I don't know." Kaworu's eyebrows shot up at the admission, and he seemed surprised to be saying it. "I can't say I've ever been in this situation before…to be faced with something I don't know…it's surprisingly distressing and liberating at the same time."

"I'm glad you're enjoying this new experience," Lorenz grumped. Kaworu looked hurt, and Lorenz waved him away. "I'm just irritated. Thank you for what you've said."

"Of course, Lorenz," Kaworu said, sensing he was being dismissed, and disappearing through the door. Lorenz leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. Admittedly, a good portion of his arrogance and confidence had come from knowing how the game had been laid out. Now, however…if things were becoming muddled….

He pondered that for a long while in silence.

* * *

Misato crossed her arms and stared at the twitchy little man. The newest American to cross her path was short, with a receding hairline, a fish-like face, and glasses. He was also arrogant and unpleasant to deal with.

"Dr. Colin," she said again in accented English, with a patience that was starting to wear dangerously thin. "We've been over this before. The facilities that have already been seconded to the American delegation should be more than sufficient for your purposes."

"Look…sweetheart," the man replied, also in English. He didn't know Japanese, and this conversation had taken an even more infuriating turn by being in a language that was not Misato's first. "I'm sure that what you've given over to the Army is a good enough barracks, but I am a specialist, and I require a specialist's facility--"

"You can call me 'Captain,'" Misato said coolly, cutting him off. "I can count on one hand the people I let call me sweetheart and you're not one of them."

Dr. Colin gave her a wooden smile and shook in a dismissive motion. "Captain," he said, indulgently. "The government of the United States has made a major investment in Nerv's Tokyo-3 operation, and Samson Creed is a significant portion of that investment. I'm here to safeguard it, seeing as the military was insufficient for the task in and of itself."

If his talk was meant to engender confidence, it wasn't working. He seemed perfectly willing to sabotage any trust she had in the military mission just to make a point, and she tapped a thumb against her elbow. She'd let him run out as much rope as he could, just to see how badly he hanged himself. "Being of a non-military persuasion," he continued, "It would be better to remove Samson from that environment. Given the strain he demonstrated in dispatching the Angel, I would suspect that being around so many Soldiers is having a debilitating affect. It is essential that we have our own facilities to treat our Pilot."

"The portion of the Center given over to the Americans is spacious enough to accommodate your mission well away from the military," Misato stated. "If you recall, we are underground, which means that we are somewhat limited on where we can expand outward. So, I encourage you to try and figure out the situation with your own military yourself. And in the meantime, what is it specifically you do?"

Dr. Colin's eye twitched, and he smiled. "Well," he said quietly, "Well. I can see that we'll be…having one of _those_ working relationships." It did not answer Misato's question...and she suspected that the little worm would say no more on the matter.

"Our working relationship can be as smooth or difficult as you choose," Misato said. "As long as you remember you are a guest here. You would do well to keep that in mind." The doctor kept his frozen smile, stood, and departed. He practically ran into Ennis on the way out, as the Major had let himself in. The American officer stared after the little man, and shook his head.

"Did you clear up the living arrangements?" he asked.

"No, but I'm not giving him any part of the GeoFront outside of what was agreed."

"I'll support you in that," he said. "He wasn't too rude, was he?" Misato's glare was all he needed to know. "I apologize for Dr. Colin's behavior," Ennis sighed. "He's…not made very many friends among us, as well."

"Is he just unpleasant on principal, or did it take an extra amount of practice to get that way?"

"He has a disdain for anyone in the military, I believe. We're like a bunch of addle-brained peasants in his mind," Ennis said with a shrug.

"I'll addle his brains. Why is he here, in my GeoFront?" she asked.

"We were in need of an outside mind in assisting us on handling Samson," Ennis said quietly. "The fight with the last Angel proved more taxing than anticipated. We were ill-equipped to deal with it."

Misato raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Really? Why not come to us?" Ennis said nothing, but shrugged and retreated into the hallway. He had said his piece, and that was that. He was now off to handle Dr. Colin, leaving Misato musing on this development. Why the new handlers? Why were they civilian and not military? For all their attempts to engender trust, the Americans were doing a piss-poor job. She shook her head.

One thing at a time. For now, she had to deal with this issue of sabotage. If someone was willing to take down their power grid in the midst of an Angel attack once, they would do it again. That was the priority for the moment.

* * *

Colin had gone straight from the meeting with Misato to Samson's quarters, passing through the checkpoints with impatience and irritation at every step. Despite his diminutive stature, everyone gave him a wide berth during his passage. When he finally arrived at the door to Samson's apartment, he glanced at the two sentries outside.

Tapping a toe impatiently, he said, "I have full clearance to this room. Can't you two go guard a crosswalk or something?" Glowering, the two eased away from the door, retreating a distance of ten feet. "Thank you," Colin said snidely, and let himself in unannounced.

The boy was sitting at his desk, folding sheets of paper over and over and discarding them on the floor. He cocked his head, slightly, and turned to examine the intruder. Samson smiled, but said nothing.

Colin placed an object on the table that looked like a tape player. He pushed three buttons, and waited. There was a flicker in the lights, indicating the presence of a static field. Anyone outside of the bubble the static field projected would find their observation devices flat-lining. There was a need for privacy, for this first meeting.

"Samson?"Colin said, "Do you remember me?" The boy smiled in that way that frightened that idiot Sefka, but filled Colin with ambition.

"Of course I remember you, Dr. Colin. It's been…very long." Something in the way that Samson said that seemed off kilter.

"It has. Have you had a difficult time here?"

"No. No, no. Just…some things feel a little…distorted. Rattled around, you know…." Samson smiled, but it seemed forced. Colin nodded, and pulled a case from his pocket. Inside were two syringes, filled with a clear liquid.

"Samson, I want to conduct a physical exam, just a brief one. First, though, I wish to give you an injection. Nothing serious, just something to…make things less distorted. Would you allow me to do that?"

"Certainly, Doctor. I've always had the greatest trust of you," Samson said, his smile becoming predatory. Colin gave an equally predatory smile, and gestured for the boy to offer his arm. Samson did, and, after daubing a spot on the bicep with an antiseptic swab from the case, Colin proceeded to inject both syringes into the same point. The reaction was almost instantaneous: the playful expression on Samson's face went slack and vanished, and he straightened in his chair. He was a machine, waiting to be programmed.

"I'm going to ask some questions," Colin said, as he began a cursory visual inspection of Samson. "Answer with a yes or no. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Samson said mechanically.

"Are you a punctual and reliable person?"

"Yes."

"Do you like to relax in a warm and family atmosphere?"

"Yes."

"Do you often contemplate the complexity of life?"

"No."

"Do you know how to put every minute of your time to good use?"

"Yes."

"Good. Good, good," Colin said, completing his physical assessment. The boy sat rigid and calm in the chair, his eyes glazed and unfocused, yet strangely intent. "Samson," Colin said, "The Group is pleased with what you have done so far, but they are concerned. Do you understand?"

"No."

"You've been too eager. You're an eager boy, who's eager to please. We like that, but you need to relax a bit. These people must trust you. It is important to the Group that these people _trust_ you. You scare them."

"I see."

"You're a good boy, but you must be even better. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor," Samson said.

"Good. Now, go to sleep and we will talk in the morning," Colin said, retrieving the generator from the table and deactivating it. "Good night, Samson."

"Good night, Doctor," the boy said, lying down on the bed and going to sleep immediately.

 


	15. Lessons

For the first time in a while, Shinji was on his own. Asuka had been sulking recently, and he couldn't find her. Every time he spoke to Rei, now, she simply looked at him as though from a great distance.

"Why does it want to know the time?" she would ask, then disappear into herself somewhere. It was as though all the time they had had together up to that point had dissolved. Her focus was almost entirely on Grendel now, and it disturbed him. He didn't know how to break past that obsession, and it felt incredibly important to him to do so. But how?

So now he found himself wandering the halls of the HQ with nothing and nowhere to go in particular. He had been summoned today for a test that had gone nowhere...and now here he was, trying to figure out... _something_. He had come here trying to find Rei, and had found her, and, sure as sure, she had asked "Why does it want to know the time?" And then she was gone, walking away and muttering to herself. He paced the corridors by himself, now, unsure of what to do and unsure of where to go. He felt isolated, empty, and lost.

As he wandered, ignoring the adults that passed by, he detected a slow, steady pounding. It was leathery crack with the jingle-jangle of chains, a sound of raw power and raw violence. It seemed strange to hear that in the halls, and Shinji couldn't place his finger on it. It seemed to be coming from the air vents, amplified and ringing. Shinji felt himself drawn to it, drifting along curiously until he had stood outside one of the several gyms Nerv maintained for its staff. He had never entered any of them, and found himself feeling a sense of trepidation as he lingered by the door.

The sounds continued, and he shifted uneasily. He swallowed, and keyed the door open.

Inside, past the rows of equipment, there was only one individual at the end of the room. It was Samson, working a dent into one of the hanging heavy bags with his shin. He stood barefoot, in shorts and a t-shirt, slowly but obsessively throwing a perfect round kick every five seconds. The right leg would drift to the floor, barely make contact…and then, as if by magic, the bag was bent in half, the leg was there cutting, the right hand swatting down his lower back. Reset, kick, reset, kick, reset, kick….

"Hey-o, Shinji," he said in a relaxed tone, still cutting with the leg. He hadn't turned around, yet somehow knew the boy was there.

"Hi…hi, Samps," Shinji stuttered.

"How's life in paradise?" the boy asked.

"Ah…still…still living," Shinji offered.

"That's the best ya can do, sometimes," Samson offered, performing a subtle little scissor-switch with his feet and driving the left leg into the bag this time. The motion was almost gentle, but it surprised Shinji, and he flinched when it happened. Samson didn't seem to notice, instead stepping in and unleashing a measured flurry of punches onto the punching bag. Shinji realized that the blows, delivered with bare hands, were as powerful as the kicks that had just been completed.

He watched in awe as Samson crumpled the bag in, seeming to grow larger as his muscles tensed with each blow. Aside from an occasional grunt, Samson was outwardly calm, his face slack and unfocused. Despite that…there seemed to be something furious underneath those blows. Angry, driving, and demanding. Insistent.

As suddenly as the flurry started, it was over, and Samson was walking away from the bag. Shinji stared at it, seeing the map of violence drawn across its surface. It was practically bent in half from the kicks, and the upper portion looked like a frumpled pillow. It seemed, even, that the leather was split in some places.

Samson, for his part, didn't seem tired or particularly winded. There was a thin sheen of sweat over his skin, but other than that, he looked remarkably fresh.

"I need to come down here, you know…to clear out the brain. A little aggression…is therapeutic." He sipped from a water bottle near the wall.

"How long…have you…um…done this? This stuff?"

"A while," Samson said, through a half-smile. "I take it you haven't?"

"No…nothing at all," Shinji said, mystified by the imprints in the bag. "I mean…this is the first time I've done  _ anything _  like this. I mean…being a Pilot. It's the first time I've ever fought or anything like that."

"You're doing well for yourself," Samson said. "You have a natural instinct for it, I would say."

"For 'it?'" Shinji turned towards the boy, a quizzical look on his face. Samson was on the floor, leaning against the wall and slowly mopping at his face with a hand-towel.

"Yeah, 'it.' You have a killer instinct in combat. You see the crease and you cut towards it. You are a survivor, Shinji. You will survive come hell or high water." Samson was smiling, but something about what he said made Shinji shudder.

"I don't want 'it,' whatever 'it' is," Shinji mumbled. The word had a sour taste in his mouth, and he wasn't sure why.

"Why not? Do you know how long it takes to develop something like that? How few people actually have it from the get-go? You are a unique individual. A diamond in the mud. Don't discount that, Shinji."

"What, because I'm…a survivor?"

"That…and you're a killer. A good one," Samson said, satisfaction in his voice.

Shinji felt his teeth grind in his mouth, and he turned and fled from the gym.

* * *

Asuka stared at the kanji assignment in front of her, and flicked it away. It didn't really matter…with the repeat lock-downs and fear of sabotage, she hadn't been to school in at least a week. What was the point of homework if she couldn't turn it in?

She snorted, glancing around the cafeteria. There were only a few Nerv employees here and there, in between meals enjoying coffee or snacks. None of them were paying attention to her, and something about that irked her. She didn't know what it was, or why it should, but it did. She felt the childish urge to throw her books across the room and make a scene. She almost did.

She was saved from herself by Shinji sliding through the doors, looking more frantic than usual. He didn't notice her, making a beeline for the drink dispenser and grabbing a cup. He fumbled it, dropping two glasses and shattering them on the floor. He glanced over his shoulder, self-conscious at the slip as everyone stared at him.

_ What is that idiot on about _ ? Asuka wondered. He fumbled with the juice dispenser, pouring half of a glass of apple juice and turning towards the cafeteria, trying to find a place out of the way. He saw her, and crossed to her table.

"What is wrong with you?" she hissed as he approached. He slid into a seat.

"I ran into Samson in one of the gyms, and he said-" he began, but her foul mood returned in force at the name, and she cut him off with a sharp slash of her hand.

"So, if you'd rather hang out with your friend  _ Samson Creed _ , well that's all fine, then," she snapped. She stood up to leave, hissing, "Hey, it's only right that the  _ boys _  work together, so God forbid I should interfere-"

"Am I a killer?" Shinji asked, desperate. He didn't say it loudly, but  _ what _  he said, and the pleading tone in which he said it, stopped her rant.

"What?" Asuka sighed, exhausted. She stared down and Shinji, and suddenly felt uncomfortable. He was looking at her with an open and pleading look. He hadn't asked her a question, he had begged for an identity.

It was as though she had seen him without clothes on. She realized he was blushing, and she coughed.

"Am I a killer?" he repeated. "I don't want to be. I don't want to be anything, really, but I…I really don't want to be a killer."

"Well, you've already killed two Angels and helped me with one, so I figure that makes you--" she began breezily, but stopped herself. She looked back and Shinji, and saw how much she had just cut him with her words. She was tempted to keep cutting, but felt guilty for doing so. She sighed, hating to baby him, but not feeling the urge to kick him anymore. It was like hitting a puppy with a rock.

"No, you're not a killer. You're too pathetic to be a killer," she said. Shinji looked down at the table, rotating the glass in his hands.

_ _Was that necessary_? _  She didn't know where that voice had come from, but it had stabbed at her, insistent. _Was that necessary_? She thought for a moment on the fact that Shinji had, indeed, been confidential about what she had done. And she had sought him for comfort in the night. She told herself that it was because he was convenient, and as far as she was concerned, he was. He wasn't Kaji, but he was there.

_ But…he was  there _ .

"You're not a bad guy. I can't _stand_ you, but…okay, let me try again." She rubbed her forehead. "You're not a bad guy. I…do like being around you…I guess. I can tolerate you. You're tolerable. You're…not a killer. You can be driven, and you're…maybe, possibly got the chance to be as good as me someday, but you're not a killer."

"…Thanks." Shinji nodded. He smiled weakly, and she found herself feeling warm at the smile. She wouldn't admit it to anyone…to  _ anyone _ …but he had a very sweet smile. She felt her cheeks heat at the thought, and she flicked her eyes back down to her homework.

"You said you'd help me with this stuff," she said, waving the paper under his nose, before feeling her insides harden. Coming up to the table, wearing sweat pants and a jacket, was Samson.

* * *

Shinji couldn't read Asuka's strange expression, but detected movement behind him, and turned to see Samson approach the table.

"I'm not intruding, am I?" the boy asked.

"No, I was just leaving," Asuka replied in a frosty tone, forced through a carefully constructed smile. "Kanji homework to catch up on and all, see you at home Shinji, talk to ya'll later, okay, thank you, buh-bye." Shinji stammered as Asuka whisked away from the table, leaving him alone with Samson. The other boy watched as she left with a barely concealed smirk, before settling down in a chair. He made a low sound in his throat, something like a murmur or chuckle.

"I think I pushed a button or two back there, Shinji, so I want to apologize," he began. "I meant what I said as a compliment, you see. Our line of work requires certain…traits that would be looked down elsewhere. I apologize if it…came across wrong."

Shinji shrugged. "Uh…that's fine. It's all right, I guess." What  _ could _  he say? It occurred to him that what Samson said didn't feel entirely complimentary, despite the intent…and it further occurred to him that it might be true. He might well and truly be a killer, and the thought frightened him. To feel that his only purpose was to be used by those around him made him feel dead inside, but if that use…was killing…

"Just be careful around the Kraut, okay?" Samson said, conspiratorially. "She looks like she means well, but…well…." Shinji's thoughts focused with amazing clarity at the statement.

"Stop calling her 'Kraut,'" Shinji said in a firm tone.

"Huh?"

"Don't call her that. She's my friend," Shinji said, surprised at the admission himself. She was his friend…they hadn't acted in a particularly friendly fashion. And yet…well…it irritated him. It made him feel irritable when Samson said that.

"I apologize," the other boy said smoothly. "Out of bounds. I'm just saying that she's a competitor. The team is something that's secondary to people like that. She sees you as the competition, you know. You have to be suspect with someone like that. Wonder at why they do what they do, you know?"

"Why do you do what you do?" Shinji asked. Samson leaned back, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Hmm. Because I'm good at it. Does there need to be another reason?"

* * *

When Shinji came home that night, Asuka was curled up in boxers and a t-shirt on one of the futons, watching a cartoon show. She didn't acknowledge him when he came in. He glanced at the stove, and saw a pot of half-boiled ramen.

"I thought you were a better cook than this," Shinji commented.

"How was your guy-time with _Sssssamson_?" she asked. Shinji stirred at the pot.

"Do you want me to cook the unagi in the fridge?" he asked.

"…Yes."

He opened the fridge and began pulling out items for cooking. "He offered to teach me martial arts."

"When is that going to happen?" There was a weird tone to the question.

"I didn't say yes," Shinji said. "I wanted to think about it. It doesn't…seem like my thing, you know?"

"So he's not teaching you?" The tone was indifferent, but there was a hint of curiosity under it.

"Maybe he will…I haven't really said yes or no," he repeated. He felt heat on the back of his head, and he turned uncomfortably. She was staring at him with a baleful eye. "He's not teaching me," Shinji emphasized, sensing she wanted something more…direct.

"Oh," she said, hopping up on her slender legs. The motion was fluid and dance-like, and she crossed the apartment to him. "Do you want to learn? I mean, you could stand to learn a few things, as pathetically as you fight."

"Pa…pathetically…?" Shinji wilted under the word. Asuka had that talent for cutting to his core like that.

"Yes, pathetically," she emphasized. "Hold up your hand." He squinted, and extended his arm. She took his hand in both of hers, and he felt his kidneys ache in surprise. Her hands were very soft. She pulled the hand towards her slightly, palm in. "Watch closely," she said.

Slowly, the outside hand slid around his own, her thumb finding a spot between the first and second knuckles, and the rest of her fingers finding a spot on the fleshy part of the palm beneath the thumb. Just when he thought his heart couldn't pound harder, she twisted.

Wailing, Shinji felt himself tip drunkenly as his elbow and wrist were wrenched around and up. He stopped just short of falling, and saw that her other hand had come to rest on both of theirs. Her arms were straight, and his own arm was locked at the tip of a very strong triangle.

"Did you see what I did?" she asked.

"Uh…kind of…." he gasped.

"Okay, now you do it," she said, letting go. He stood up, surprised. She held her hand towards him.

"What?" he asked, surprised.

"Do it." Feeling suddenly nervous, he grabbed her hand and began wrenching it. She looked at him, bemused and bored, as he struggled more with himself than her. She flicked her hand away and swatted him on the nose with the tip of her finger. It was a light touch, but one that stung and made his eyes water.

"Slowly," she said. "You have to start slowly, dumkopf. If you want to do this right, you have to start slow. Take my hand with both of yours." He sighed, and grabbed her hand. "God, you have soft hands," she mumbled.

"Does that matter?" he grated.

"It's nice," she said dismissively, "If a little girly, but whatever. Now, take that hand…" Slowly, she talked him through the motion. At a painstaking rate, he repeated the action, all the way to completion. She had him do it again, and again, until it felt easy. She made him do it on the other hand as well, and then showed him the motions without an opponent, to practice on his own.

"Not so difficult, is it?" she asked.

"No, not so difficult," he admitted, bashful and pleased. He felt like he had gained an inch with this little skill. "What else is there?"

"Maybe later. I'm hungry," she said, retreating back to the television. Shinji watched after her in wonder, before turning back to the eel.

 


	16. Tapestry

It was out of character for Rei to skip school, but she felt compelled by forces greater than her. Greater than the need to keep up appearances. The new puzzle that had landed in her lap was one so tantalizing, she simply had to leave everything else be. The resonance that flowed from Grendel…what was it?

She had liberated a laptop from the GeoFront, and sat in front of it now, tapping away, running multiple searches on the Grendel-class Evangelion. There was a lot written about it, but nothing that could be called substantial. Some of it was jingoistic praise of the American ability to grow it's own Evangelion independent of Nerv interference, some of it was the scientific implications behind having access to samples of the tissue used to create the being. The scientific journals themselves were…disappointing. There were no names, no specifics, no photographs of individuals connected to the project. The defense contractors that provided the mechanical components were notably absent from any mention in the press.

It was all so strange.

It shouldn't be, of course, considering the secrecy that existed around Rei within Nerv itself. And yet, America was not Nerv. It was a democratic nation, which meant information would always find a way into the public eye. That was just the nature of the beast: too many people means someone will talk at some point. So why had no one talked yet? The only thing Rei could assume was that the official stories were inflated to an extent, but in what details?

It was confusing.

There was a knock on the door. She looked towards the front of the apartment in confusion, and wondered who it could possibly be. Someone from Nerv, possibly? Why? She stood, and opened the door.

"Glad to see you're still breathing," Misato said, her hands on her hips. Rei gazed up at her blankly. "You missed school today," Misato explained.

"Yes," Rei agreed.

"Care to explain?"

"I had more pressing issues to handle."

"Pressing issues?" Misato's eyebrow quirked. "That's a term-of-phrase I'd never thought I'd hear you say. Need to talk?"

"No," Rei said. "I need time."

"Time for what?" Rei said nothing, and Misato shrugged. "Whatever it is, you can't miss school unless approved by Nerv, and we had nothing on the schedule for you today. You need to get to school on your assigned days."

"I can't guarantee it won't happen again," Rei said. Misato blinked, taken aback by the bluntness.

"Rei, it's not…really your decision," Misato said, suddenly irritated.

"It's not…that's why I cannot guarantee it," Rei explained patiently. Misato sighed, not wanting to get into this particular argument here on the doorstep. She seemed to be shifting gears, and had come to a decision.

"Why don't you take a break from…whatever it is you're doing, and come get some dinner with me, Asuka, and Shinji." Something about the way Misato said Shinji made Rei perk up. She didn't know why that would be, as she had seen him several times at the GeoFront. It was odd that all it took was Misato saying his name to remind Rei that she hadn't really  _ seen _ him at all. Did she miss that? She didn't know why she should.

Something about the awkward way he tried to engage with her. It seemed so…what was the word? Unnecessary. She thought then of the deflated way he had begun to appear around her, and a curious connection was made in her mind. She couldn't pin down the specifics yet…but something (or  _ Something _ ) told her that dinner at Misato's was the path she should take.

"That would be acceptable," she said.

* * *

Rei sat quietly during the car ride to Misato's apartment, watching the charade of normal life going about it's business outside. People living in the shadow of extermination, as though there were no great doom hanging over their head, no Plan or Event at the end of the road. Surreal. Unreal. False, fake, and temporary.

Why did it want to know the time?

The continued to press on Rei, for reasons she couldn't quite explain. The nature of the other Evas had always been clear to her, in their own way. The disdain of Unit One, the rage and fear of Unit Zero. Unit Two was still a mystery to her, but she could at least gauge that one…she could put her finger on it. Arrogance, it seemed. Grendel, though….

These things with the other Evas, they were under the surface. You had to look for them, but they were there. They were always pressing at the skin, like blood under thin scar tissue, itching and pulsing. Grendel was…oh, what was the phrase?

It wore itself on its sleeves. There was nothing hidden about Grendel. It was out in the open, barely contained. Like the Pilot. Rei felt her eyelids twitch. She had not considered the Pilot yet. She had no reason to, because he was just one more human being among a sea of them, but thinking about it now, yes…yes, the Pilot was an aberration, as well. She knew that he was, but in a way…weren't they all aberrations? This Pilot…how did he work with Grendel? How did he…control Grendel? She had seen a thing or two about his Plug Suit. It was well beyond simply interfacing with the Eva, beyond synchronization…it was domination. He dominated the Eva.

Rei felt surprised at the simplicity of changing her perspective on that. She had been trying for so long to find information that couldn't be found, when the answers may have been here the entire time.

"We're here," Misato said, and Rei blinked.

"What?"

"That's the third time I said it," Misato said, smiling patiently. "What are you woolgathering over there?"

"Nothing of importance," Rei mumbled, looking out the window. Indeed, there was the apartment. That was odd…she had never drifted out of the  _ now _ when considering things. She stepped out of the car and fell in pace behind Misato.

"I called ahead to let everyone know you were coming, so there'd be enough food," Misato said, as they walked up the stairs and down the balcony to her door at the corner. The officer let herself in and kicked her shoes off at the entrance. Rei followed meekly, glancing in. She could smell good things, but she also smelled meat and felt nauseous. She didn't feel that hungry, now.

"Oh, look, it's Wonder Girl," Asuka said, staring at the television and not turning around. She was wearing a t-shirt and very short shorts. Flaunting herself, it would seem.

"Hello, Second," Rei said quietly.

"Hi, Rei," Shinji said, standing at the stove. She studied him, detecting something different in his demeanor. He seemed relaxed, comfortable. At ease. Was there something about cooking that made Shinji behave differently than when he was at the GeoFront? It was like looking at a different person.

"Hello, First," she said, quietly, and was surprised at the softness of her own voice. "What did I miss at school today?"

"Nothing important," he said, "There was a quiz, though. I think they'll make you take it when you go back in."

"It is of no concern."

"Uh…sure. We can talk about it more at dinner. You guys got in at just the right time…I'm just finishing up."

"Excellent!" Misato said, very happy. She had grabbed three beers from the fridge. Rei suspected that would not the be the only three beers of the evening. It seemed she would be walking home.

Rei decided to ponder that later, and sat at the table, not expecting to eat much. Meat was such a big part of what everyone ate, she fully expected nothing would be available for her to eat. She was surprised, then, when Shinji slid a plate in front of her with some tofu items.

"I heard you were coming over, so I made some vegetarian dishes for you," Shinji explained. Rei started to say something, but couldn't. She was caught off guard by that. She had been so used to people simply putting food in front of her, it was odd that someone had taken the time to consider her own preferences. Shinji smiled at her confusion shyly. Asuka sidled into a chair at the corner, watched the little exchange, and began to sulk.

She always sulked, Rei thought.

 


	17. Mesh

"Synchronization for One is at 50% and climbing…Zero is holding steady at 70%," Hyuga murmured, rubbing his eyelid under his glasses. "Two is at 80% and holding. 78%…80%."

"Is it 78 or 80?" Cooper asked, leaning back in his chair to get a better look at Hyuga's monitor.

"It's fluctuating. Now 70…90. I mean, she's synced, but it's all over the place."

"Noisy brain?" Cooper asked.

"If anyone had a noisy brain, it would be that girl," Misato mumbled. She was gazing at the main screen, all four Pilots projected across it. Rei looked serene and distant, Shinji fidgety. Asuka looked pissed off, as usual, and Samson…who knew? With his synchronization helmet on, it was impossible to read his expression, and his bulky Plug Suit muted his body language. If anything, he looked like he was asleep.

"What's up with your bright boy?" she asked, looking down at Cooper. He leaned back in his chair, gazing upside down at Misato.

"Perfect sync, naturally, but there's some witchy stuff going on in the background."

"Witchy?"

"Yeah," he yawned, and leaned forward, tapping a few keys. "I mean, it was always there whenever there were sync-ups, right? Ever since He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Mentioned showed up-" Misato grimaced, "-it's gotten heavier. See here?" He pulled up a graphical display, and pointed to a series of oscillating waves. There were two, a green and a white one, mirroring each other almost exactly. One was the Pilot, and one was the Eva. They weren't perfect, of course: one would be more irregular, a human mind, and the other should be stable and steady, like a whale's heartbeat.

"See this?" he asked, pointing to one of the aberrational waves, inside the green pattern. "That's a pattern that repeats itself. If it was normal noise, it wouldn't ever appear in the same place twice. But…." He tapped at the keys, and the aberration was highlighted, as well as a series of almost exact aberrations. They repeated down the wavelength. "That's like lightning striking eighteen times in the same spot."

"So it's not random?" She mused, looking at the relatively sloppy wavelength in comparison to the steady and uniform one below it. She felt the acute absence of Ennis. "Am I supposed to be seeing this, Lieutenant?" she asked coyly.

"Of course not," Cooper chuckled. "But who cares? National secrets don't count much against extinction, and I don't figure you for the tattling kind." Her lips quirked into a smile, and she stared deeper at the wavelength.

"That is weird," she thought, "I mean, the Pilot's wavelength has the normal erratic elements, of course, but for something so regular…"

"The Pilot's?" Cooper gazed up at her, confused.

"Yeah…isn't this Samson?" she asked, tapping the green pattern.

"No,  _ this _  is Samson," Cooper said, pointing to the almost-perfect white pattern. " _ This _ is Grendel."

"That's an _Eva_!?" Misato asked, incredulous. She heard the shuffling of chairs as the other bridge techs scooted over.

"Good God, what is wrong with that thing?" Aoba gasped.

"Okay, good, I'm not the only one who thinks that," Cooper said, waving his hands in the air.

"Are we done yet?" Asuka's voice cut through the air, peevish and testy. Misato blinked, realizing she had forgotten about them. She leaned over the console mike.

"Few more tests, I'm afraid," Misato said.

"Oh, come  _ on _ !" the girl whined, twisting on the crash couch. "This is so demeaning! Can't we run a simulation or something?"

There was a crinkling sound, almost like a cricket chirping. "What is that?" Asuka snapped, looking around. Shinji had also perked up, confused by the noise. Rei looked mildly uncomfortable.

Misato realized it was Samson giggling, his voice muffled from his helmet. She sighed…usually, it was Shinji and Asuka who were at each other's throats. Samson had been replacing Shinji as the target of Asuka's ire, and it concerned her. Whereas her spats with Shinji tended to be childish and annoying, Asuka had nothing but seething contempt and hatred for Samson. It was difficult to tell, but Misato would bet the American held Asuka in the same regard. Arguments like that could be...problematic.

"Is that laughing?" Asuka snapped. "Are you laughing at me, Yankee?"

"You shouldn't be so amusing," Samson crackled, "I'm still trying to figure out how you were the most professional of the Pilots."

"Who asked you for your opinion?" Asuka snapped, "I'm not here to 'amuse' you, you creep, I'm…wait, what do you mean  _ was _ the most professional!?"

"She's quick," Samson chided. "Takes her a little while to put it all together, but she gets it in the end."

" _ I will destroy you _ !"

"Enough!" Misato pleaded into the mike. "Will you two knock it off?"

"Roger," Samson said mechanically.

"He needs to leave me alone!" Asuka insisted.

"Just stop! Drop it! I know these tests are boring, but they're necessary, so please be patient, okay?" Misato sighed, and looked over her shoulder at the bridge crew. Four pairs of eyes gazed back at her, owl-like and curious.

"What are you looking at?"

"My mom, I think," Cooper said, trying to make a joke. Aoba started to laugh, and then stopped abruptly. As they scattered, Misato was aware of Ritsuko stepping into the command theater.

"He's right, you know. You were quite matriarchal," Ritsuko teased.

"Spare me," Misato snapped. She pointed at Ibuki. "I'm stepping out for a moment. You're in charge, Ibuki."

"But…I'm her senior--" Aoba began weakly. Cooper turned in his chair to add his own protest.

"Do I look like I care!?" Misato hissed. Aoba wilted, and Cooper's chair continued its spin, carrying the American lieutenant back around to his console without a word.

"Get some coffee with me," Misato sighed, brushing past Ritsuko. The scientist rolled her eyes and followed her friend.

For a few seconds, there was silence on the bridge. The silence was broken by Ibuki giggling, "You're all my minions now." That earned a collective scoff.

* * *

Samson rolled in the LCL, his first languid movement since being inserted into the Plug.

_ You shouldn't argue with that girl _ , the Voice said, meek but firm.

_ _Why ever not_? _  He scratched at his belly. He couldn't feel it, of course, but the motion felt relaxing. He didn't have to worry about Grendel mimicking his actions: despite the high synchronization, the slave channels were cut.

_ There's something about her…that's dangerous…and hurt. It's inappropriate…to pick on her . _

_ To think I would get morality lessons from an Eva ,  _ he mentally sighed _. _

_ And…the Red One…doesn't like it. _

_ The Red One? _

_ The Red One…the…Unit Two? Yes, Two. _

_ Two…doesn't like it? _

_ _No_. _  If Grendel could have shuffled its feet, it would have.  _ _It's very clear about that_. _

_ _I'm glad you had that little chat with it_ , _  he said teasingly. There was a warble on his comm, and he opened the incoming communication request. Shinji's face appeared in the air next to him.

"Samps," he said, his face set, "Was that necessary?"

"What? With the…Asuka?" Shinji's nose crinkled at the almost-slur.

"Yes, with _Asuka_ ," Shinji said, "She's difficult, yeah, but-"

"You're not jealous, are you?" Samson said, teasing. Shinji's expression didn't change, but his cheeks turned pink.

"You shouldn't have done that," Shinji said.

"Ah, whatever," Samps said, waving his hand indifferently. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the Itsy-Bitsy Spider floated to the surface for a brief moment, and he blinked it back down. "Hey, what are you doing after this?"

"The test?"

"Yeah."

"I was gonna go home and cook for Asuka."

"You're quite the homemaker, ain't ya?"

"Why do you ask?" Shinji mumbled, trying to change the subject.

"Is there anywhere in Tokyo-3 that does good American style burgers, or steaks?"

"Uh…I have no idea."

"We should go grab a bite." Shinji looked surprised at the suggestion, and shrugged.

"Maybe," he said, and the line cut.

Samson rolled in the LCL, chuckling. "Maybe," he mumbled, pondering the talk. Shinji hadn't stuttered, not once in their talk. That was a recent development. The boy smiled to himself and crossed his arms, pondering that. What was that, the term? A constructive adaptation to present conditions, that's what the doctors would have classified it as. That's what Colin would have said.

Samson's smile turned into a grin, feral and not entirely friendly. Ah…Colin. He would expect to debrief Samson after the test, and those debriefings left him…foggy. If he was to persuade Shinji for a chance to get away from these…people…he couldn't have a session with Colin. That would not be _constructive_.

The Itsy-Bitsy Spider fluttered under the surface.

* * *

Shinji bit his lip, pondering the offer from Samson as he keyed on Asuka's link.

"- _tear out his eyes, and spit into the sockets!_ " she screamed. He quickly toggled out of the connection: she was still wound up. Instead, he keyed over to Rei.

"Yes, Third?" she asked, dull but polite.

"Why do you think Asuka and Samson hate each other so much?" he asked.

"The Second and Fourth Child are very similar, in many ways," she said automatically, as if she had been waiting to be asked the question. "It is inevitable that the two would clash. Does this surprise you?"

"Not…not really," Shinji murmured. "It bothers me, maybe."

"With Fourth irritating Second, you are no longer the target of her disdain," Rei observed.

"Well, I wouldn't say  _ _that_ , _ " Shinji added, but considered Samson's teasing statement. _ You're not jealous, are you? _

Yeah, he kind of was. He felt butterflies at thinking it. Why should he be jealous? Why would he want to be? Honestly, he felt one hundred percent sympathetic with Samson, in why he picked the fight. Asuka asked for it, most of the time. His first instinct, however, was to shield Asuka from Samson. That was odd, to him.

"Um…Shinji?" The boy felt a word form in the back of his throat. Rei had just said his name. That was odd.

"Yeah, Rei?"

"Last night...," she said, "It was…considerate of you to make tofu dishes for me. I wanted to…thank you for that."

"That's…well, gee, that's fine!" He smiled sheepishly, and scratched the back of his head. "I just hope it tasted good."

"The taste was…good," Rei agreed, pensively. She cut the link, evidently done with talking. Shinji shook his head, surprised at that. Rei had said his name and offered gratitude, almost completely out of the blue. He had stood up for Asuka, of all people. The children were changing, it seemed.

Well, some of them, at least. He keyed up Asuka's link.

"- _feed him his liver! Uncooked!_ "

"Are you done yet?" Shinji sighed. Asuka had begun to breathe heavily, her face contorted in animal hatred.

"…No," she mumbled. Shinji waited, and she said nothing more.

"…Are you…sure you're not?" Shinji ventured.

"I…made myself dizzy," Asuka mumbled, leaning back onto the couch and closing her eyes.

 


	18. In the Wings

Misato's coffee was at least five parts liquid creamer to one part actual coffee. Ritsuko crinkled her nose at the syrupy mess.

"Don't judge me," Misato murmured, sipping at her cup. "I'm allowed my vices."

"As long as it's not drinking yourself blind or destroying your love life, I'm all for it," Ritsuko chided. Misato made a face, but continued drinking.

"What brought you by the Bridge?"

"I think I might murder Dr. Colin and stuff him in an air vent. Want to help?"

"Really? Do tell," Misato said, smiling. In his short time here, Misato had the fortune of only encountering the American once, in her first unpleasant meeting. His exploits, however, had been making the rounds in the GeoFront.

"He's been positively lurking around my research theaters. Down in the paddocks, around the Magi server rooms, trying to get access to Terminal Dogma…and generally being a little parasite…I can't get away from him." She snorted. "I can't get a moments peace. Everywhere I turn, there's that wormy, insistent, condescending little…."

Misato watched as Ritsuko trailed off, and felt her mind drift back to what had happened before she had excused herself from the bridge.

"Ritz," she said, "Have you had the opportunity to check out Grendel?"

"Not really," Ritsuko murmured, "Not beyond what I've seen in the networking with Magi. To be fair, though, we won't let them look at our Evas…or our Pilots…." Ritsuko smiled faintly.

"Knew I was working around to that too, didn't you?" Misato teased. "There's a lot of weird angles on this, and I feel like the Americans should be more clever about it. I mean, let's assume they have ulterior motives…okay, they  _ do _ , everyone at this level does…why does it seem so _sloppy_?"

"Sloppy? I don't follow."

"I just got finished looking at a graphic readout of the American Eva and its Pilot, right? The Eva's sync patterns are…highly erratic. The Pilots? Like a machine. Too perfect." Ritsuko said nothing, but one eyebrow quirked slightly.

"Now, here's the deal: I don't know how the Americans made their Eva, or how they trained their Pilot, but from the outside looking in, I would say…there has to be at least three, maybe four different agendas pulling at the American mission. Maybe more. There's no such thing as a perfect military operation, but this looks…really erratic. See what I'm saying?"

"You're saying that the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing because the brain won't tell either where the legs are carrying them," Ritsuko said.

Misato smirked. "Something like that."

"You sound like Kaji."

Misato rolled her eyes in irritation at the name. "You've been chatting with him?"

"Not infrequently," Ritsuko purred. "He had some interesting things to say about the blackout." Misato turned pink. "Oh, don't get that look. He didn't say anything scandalous. Just amusing."

"Has he been talking about this stuff, too?" Misato mumbled.

"Musing, mostly. We bounce irritations off of each other. You really should chat with him when you can." Misato slunk down, looking deflated and stubborn all at once. "Stop being childish, Misato. Really, a Captain and acting like a teenager."

"A young woman and acting like a spinster," Misato said testily. Ritsuko smiled.

"Last time I checked, we were  _ both  _ Christmas cakes, my dear," she said, as Misato's phone beeped. She answered it quickly.

"Ma'am," Ibuki's quiet voice said, "We've wrapped up the testing…I think we've gotten all we can get for today. The kids are exhausted and Asuka's threatening to take Unit Two for a walk topside."

"And Samson?" There was a click as the line transferred.

"Ma'am, this Lieutenant Cooper," the American tech officer answered, "No changes from before. In fact, I think he may have gone to sleep."

"At least _someone's_ getting rest. Okay, pack it up for the day. We might as well let them get out and go home," she sighed. She closed her phone and looked at Ritsuko. "Kaji aside," she murmured, "I would like you to take a look at the readings from Grendel and Samson's sync tests, please."

"Of course. And, Kaji aside…please talk to Kaji. I'm under the impression he would like to bring this up to you, but he hasn't yet."

"I've never known Kaji to hesitate about doing anything at all in my life," Misato replied.

"I know, which is why I bring it up to you. Just humor me on it, okay? Too many weird things going on around here, with the Yanks coming and all," Ritsuko mumbled.

"We're fighting massive alien constructs with four-hundred foot tall biological cyborgs piloted by children. The Yankees are what weirds you out?" Misato teased, exiting the break room. And yet, as she did, she had the feeling that it had to be something truly unnerving if the Yanks  _ were _  what they thought of as being the weird factor.

For her part, Ritsuko smiled sadly after Misato.  _ Ah, hon _ , she thought, _ _If only you knew how weird it truly was_. _

* * *

Ennis was trying to enjoy a lunch in the officer's mess in Yankee Land (as the American section of the GeoFront had recently been coined), when the all-too-familiar sound of soft footsteps filled his ears. He laid his grilled cheese-and-ham sandwich on the plate and rubbed his eyes.

"Yes, Dr. Colin, what can I do for you?" he asked in mock politeness.

"That is service," Colin said in his typically smug tone, "Asking before I even open my mouth. If all the personnel here were as responsive in their other actions as you were right there, I could rest easy."

"Get to the point, I'm trying to eat."

"I was wondering if you knew where Samson was. I need to do a check-up."

Ennis fixed the man with a blunt stare. "That was  _ your _  job, as of your arrival. _You_ should be telling  _ me _ where he is. Further, have you considered asking Capt. Merritt?" It was a subtle jab, but to his credit, it wasn't lost on Colin. A small reminder that there was someone doing his job before, and that Ennis had long since decided he rather'd Merritt had _kept_ doing it.

"You see, there's this  _ thing _  called the chain of command," Colin said, "Which I would think you, as an officer, would know about. I go to the lieutenant, and if they don't know something, I go to the captain. Now that I have done that, I'm at the top, talking to the Major." Ennis' eyes narrowed dangerously. So, Colin  _ had _  asked Merritt, and Merritt didn't know. He could have saved them both time and trouble by being upfront with that. He had not, and now they were here with Ennis losing his patience.

"He's disappeared again, has he?" This would the…seventh time, now. They had _finally_ tried chipping him, deciding that it was the only way to track him and risks be damned. That was as successful as trying to hold air in your hands. In the end, he always returned, so they weren't too worried about it…well, not  _ too _  worried about it. That was all evident fact, though.

"Yes. Yes, he has, which makes me wonder what possible reason you all could have been assigned security on him," Colin said snappishly. "I've been having trouble determining what you pass as competence here."

Ennis counted to ten, studying Colin. The look he gave was a well-practiced one, the kind that quailed subordinates and bureaucrats of all types. It had no discernible affect on Colin. "Dr. Colin," he said, quietly, "The boy is your responsibility, yes?"

"Of course," Colin snapped.

"So I should be asking  _ you _  why  _ you _  lost him," Ennis said calmly. Colin gave a tight, cold smile, and said nothing more. Ennis leaned back. "He goes, and he comes back. The first few times, I was extremely nervous about it, and frankly, I still am. But he always comes back, and you know why? He likes the _fighting_. If he went away, he wouldn't get to fight. So, if you can curb this wanderlust, I strongly encourage you to try, and I will applaud your success. As for the time being, however, we just have to be patient. Now, if you have nothing else to say, kindly piss off so I can enjoy my meal in peace." Colin's face went flat, and Ennis waited him out. It was not professional to do that, nor was it especially wise, considering he had no knowledge of Colin's connections back home. The man was in dire need of a humbling experience.

"Well," Colin finally said. "I will allow you to enjoy…your…sandwich. I'll keep you appraised, Major. I only ask, so humbly, that you do the same for me." Colin marched sharply away, leaving Ennis alone with his meal.

* * *

Fuyutsuki studied the image in the folder, one fingernail slowly and methodically scratching his ear.

"Is this confirmed?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Gendo murmured. "It made three appearances, so far. Nothing destructive as of yet, but we can't get a tab on it, and it's coming closer."

"Why haven't we alerted the staff about this?" Fuyutsuki asked. "Operations should be preparing immediately."

"This is a bipedal creature similar in appearance, at least shape, to Sachiel. Two arms, two legs, apparently humanoid. What about that sounds…accurate?"

"Accurate?"

"In regards as to what we  _ should _ be expecting?" Gendo poked. Fuyutsuki eyed the image, then it hit him. He was often so focused on Operations, that the overall picture sometimes eluded. Such as the fact that there was an order to the Angels appearance, and that there was supposed to be a very particular one showing up.

One that was  _ not _ humanoid.

Fuyutsuki dropped the folder. "This Angel does not exist."

Gendo nodded. "It's nowhere to be found in the Dead Sea Scrolls. This is a new entity."

"What was the next one due?"

"Sahaquiel," Gendo mused. "We only have vague descriptions of what it should be, but we know that it would have appeared in orbit. This is…." Gendo shrugged. "Different."

"Clearly," Fuyutsuki said in a dry tone. "Things are deviating."

"Can you imagine what the old men are thinking about this?" Gendo said, his face expressionless but what could have been a twinkle in his eye.

"You seem remarkably calm," Fuyutsuki noted.

"The end goal is unaffected by this," he said. "We simply adjust to new circumstances, that's all."

"So Yui's legacy is not…damaged by this?"

"For the immediate future, no. We simply have to keep tabs of any more disruptions." Gendo rubbed his eyes then, a rare admission of exhaustion. He tried to keep his human qualities hidden, but Fuyutsuki was by his side more than anyone else. He could only keep up a facade for so long. "We'll keep tabs…." He trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What's the matter, Gendo?"

"My head hurts," he said matter-of-factly. "And my eyes are tired. Nothing some coffee won't fix."

"When was the last time you got any rest?" Fuyutsuki asked. Gendo gave him an unreadable look, and Fuyusuki smiled gently. "I'm the first one in and the last one to leave, and I've never beaten you to work or followed you out of the door. You practically live, eat, and breathe this place. When was the last time you rested?"

"I get the necessary rest I need," he mumbled, suddenly feeling chastised and not knowing why. Imagine, of all things, answering to Fuyutsuki!

"I'm just suggesting that you take some time for a rest every now and then. Perhaps get to know your son a bit more," Fuyutsuki ventured. Gendo gave him a hard look, and laid his hands on the table.

"We'll continue tracking this new entity, to be referred to as the Tenth Angel, until we can determine what it is and where it came from. That is all." He didn't turn away, but Fuyutsuki knew he had been dismissed.

 


	19. Here Be Monsters

It was easy to forget that Rei Ayanami was a girl, with a girl's mind and a girl's heart. It was so easy to forget that she herself did, from time to time. Then the night came on, and she would sleep, and little things would whisper to her from the empty corners of her room. Little insects that would tiptoe across the floor, over the bed, into her ear, and tell her all the things she thought, she knew, she was certain was certain.

She stood in a field of glass, where dark was a thing that touched her soul in ways profound and intimate, tender and terrifying. The clouds roiled above her, their thunder silent in the expanse of her mind.

_ I am dreaming _ , she thought. Sometimes, she knew, and other times, she didn't. She knew now. She turned slowly in place, her bare feet kissing the earth in a false-sense, solid like water. Solid like hate.

_ I know hate _ , she thought,  _ I know it. I've felt it, I think. I think I feel…I…do feel…sometimes. What am I dreaming? _

She circled in place, her hands rubbing her face, and her stomach, and her arms. She relished the feel of skin under finger tips, something she didn't do when awake. She didn't know why she did now. It seemed natural.

She looked down, and saw a doll at her feet, the hair clumps of black yarn and the eyes little buttons. It wore a blue dress, and sat slumped over. Rei studied it for a long time before it stood up and began to walk towards her. This seemed perfectly natural to Rei. It was, after all, a dream.

"Do you know me?" it asked. "Do you _really_ know me?"

"I've never seen you before," Rei answered.

"I think I might be someone else," it whispered. "I think I was someone special, once. That went away a long time ago. I really want it to be over now."

"That doesn't make any sense," Rei said quietly. "You are obviously who you are: you are a doll."

"I wasn't always," the doll insisted. "I had a heart, you know. It burned very bright."

"You are a doll," Rei insisted back, patiently. "It makes sense, you know. This is a dream, so a doll can speak in a dream. Strange, though…." Rei cocked her head to the side. "I don't know why I would dream about a doll."

"I…don't want to be a doll anymore…." It turned in place, shuffled its feet. "He makes me  _ do _  these things. There's always screaming. Always."

"Who?" Rei asked, and then felt she was not alone anymore, as though there was something in her head. Or in the room. For a brief, almost lucid moment, Rei then wondered if there was, in fact, someone in her bedroom. It was a clinical thought, and one that was so detached from her concept of personal safety that she didn't even feel the fear of self-preservation. Yet…the thought of who it could be…of who it _might_ be…names and faces didn't come, but that presence seemed to carry a note of claustrophobia about it. Rei felt suddenly as small as the doll.

"Please," it whimpered, "He's coming." It pushed its arms up over its eyes. "He always comes. When will he stop?" Rei felt the wind blow, and turned to look.

All she saw was a smile. It was a smile that cut the air like a sore, turning in and on and around itself in an eternal field of teeth and bone and gum. They formed many mouths, but only one mouth, and Rei felt wonder at it.

"I like to collect things sometimes," the many mouths said in one voice. "But I break things. It is so difficult…it waxes like caramel, you know." Rei felt a sickly sweat push in the small of her soul, trying to understand what that meant. It was gibberish, it was just dream-speech. It shouldn't mean anything. But it  _ did _ , it  _ had _  to, something about it was so _fundamental_ that she couldn't ignore it. And the voice was just…so… _ familiar _ ….

"He won't go away!" the doll shrieked, and Rei's teeth chattered. It was so loud, so close, so real. The teeth began to melt into the earth. Someone was walking between the teeth, a nude boy with black hair and such  _ pretty  _ eyes….

Shinji stopped walking, leaning one way and the next in a manner that made her think of dogs, his eyes intent. He slowly drifted forward, his lips peeling back from his gums in a false-smile, and when he spoke, the words seemed to come of their own in the air…and the voice was Samson's…and then she  _ knew _  where she had heard the _voice_ before.

"It's empty," he said, as Shinji's lips rolled up over his head and Samson pushed through, tearing the skin like tissue. "It's empty."

* * *

Rei awoke trembling and sweaty, as the images swirled in her head. Dream images, dream sounds, dream rubbish. They never made any sense, even when she could remember them all. They never made the slightest bit of sense.

She curled up on her bed, clawing at the filthy sheets. It was rare a dream made her feel so…so…she lacked the words for it. She lacked the words for how she often felt like this, when all the bland indifference of the world suddenly seemed to burst like a cyst and the corruption flowed out. She would tremble, shudder, weep, retch until the demons vanished, and then the world would take its colorless hue again. She would be Rei, and she would take all the hurt into herself, all the noise and thunder, like a black hole.

This time she couldn't. Something in that dream had touched her, touched her so deep that she couldn't shake herself from the mounting hysteria. Something had just been broken.

_ No _ , the analytical part of her mind commented, observing her state with a detached indifference,  _ Not just now. It has been broken for a little while longer, I would think. We understand the fundamental flaw of self, do we not? _

"It's meaningless," she heard herself say, "What is it to feel? When do they teach that?" Slowly, softly, the shuddering subsided, and Rei felt herself push back into her shell, a hermit crab returning to the dark and the safe. She remained curled up, but her face went lax, and she was again as she was known to others.

It was easy to forget Rei Ayanami was a girl. It was easy to forget that she could feel. When she did, it terrified her.

* * *

"Oh, sure,  _ everyone _  is  _ sooo _  impressed!" Rei studied Asuka from behind her bland mask, as the girl held court in Class 2A while Nebukawa no Sensei was conspicuously absent. It happened, from time to time, that he would just not be there, and the students had something of a free reign on the classroom. Many of the girls would flock to Asuka, while the boys would sit back in clusters and try to look indifferent. Shinji, Kensuke, and Toji were near the window, discussing something in quiet tones. She felt an odd sensation that she realized was envy as she looked at him. She didn't find herself jealous of Asuka, with her minions about, but she did find herself jealous of Shinji, and the close relationship that had developed between him and the other two boys.

It was something she had seen as extemporaneous, unnecessary. As vestigial as the appendix. After last night's dream, which lingered like a corpse under the dirt of her mind…she found herself questioning that opinion.

"If it wasn't for a  _ teensy _ little blackout, I would have been all over that last Angel!" Asuka snapped, flicking her wrist in a  _ just so _  manner.

"Oh, come on, stop teasing!" one of the girls said. "What's _he_ like? We  _ know _  there's a new Pilot!"

"Spare me!" Asuka grunted. "He's a creep. A creepy creep, with this weird little superiority complex. Thinks he's God's gift to Piloting. No finesse, no art." She rolled her eyes. "I swear, those people at Nerv will take  _ anyone _  with a nervous system these days!"

"But is he  _ cute _ ?" another girl insisted, trying to bring the priorities in the conversation back to those issues that truly mattered.

"Flawless," Asuka said dryly, "Like an action figure. It's _disgusting_. I'm guessing he had to have some sort of surgery at some point. To be so  _ vain _  at that age!" When Asuka said "action figure," a curious connection was made in Rei's mind, between that of dolls and boys. Boys did not play with dolls, but they played with action figures, and what were those but dolls for boys? The strange pathways of logic in her mind connected back to the frightened doll begging her for help last night, and for a moment, Rei thought that she was no longer in the classroom. That the limited and fragile walls of 2A had vanished like smoke, and she was holding that doll in her hands.

She had never had a doll. Though a part of her  _ remembered _ having a doll, but she couldn't for the life of her put the image together. She wondered what it was like to be a little girl, with a doll, and pretending it was a friend, or a little child all her own. Someone so helpless, so…broken. The little doll was there in her hands in that moment, its button eyes seeming to scream for help.

"I think you're in _love_ with him, Asuka!" a voice from so far away jeered, and a sound of disgust followed it. It was dry emotion, so contemptuous that even embarrassment could not survive in it's wake.

"You clearly don't know my tastes," someone said. The doll was starting to cry, but the tears were black, and that made no sense. Something about it reminded Rei of…something. Something….

She couldn't put words to what was happening in her chest, in her soul, but it  _ hurt _ …so badly, and in that moment, a brief moment, she felt hot air on the back of her neck and a sudden feeling of disgust washed over her. There was a sound, something like like retching, or moaning, or screaming, or all one in the same. And then she was back in her seat, there was water on the desk, and she realized that the sound was her.

Rei glanced up, to see  _ everyone _  staring at her. This didn't bother her, and yet something about it  _ did. _

"Rei?" She looked over at Shinji, who was kneeling next to her in concern. "Are…you _okay_?"

"…I think I might be someone else," she said quietly, her face sticky with tears and mucus.

* * *

Shinji stared at the girl, surprised at how  _ red _  her face was after sobbing. He didn't entirely know what to do, as he had never seen Rei exhibit more than little, hidden snatches of what could be  _ mistaken _ for emotion, much less have a full sobbing breakdown in the middle of class. Something told him he needed to do  _ something _ , but what could he do? He glanced over to Asuka for guidance.

Naturally, there was none to be found there. She was, in fact, standing at the far end of the room with her eyes wide and her jaw practically on the floor. He figured that being who she was, she would have loved nothing more than to see Rei be in such a state, but like the proverbial cat that finally got outside, she had no clue what to do with it. No one in the classroom did. They had all created such a mental image of who Rei was and what she did, that to see her behave like this was as fundamental a shift in their world as the sun going black.

"Let's go," he said, helping her to her feet.

"I think I've made a mess," she mumbled, touching her face.

"No, you're okay," Shinji said, walking towards the door. Should he call Misato? Maybe. He didn't know what  _ else _  to do. As he escorted her to the door, Toji was the first to move, scrambling across the classroom to hold the door for them and follow them out. A moment later, Kensuke realized he was alone and hurried after them. The rest of the classroom sat in silence and wonder.

It was broken a moment later in a manner that very nearly killed the weaker-hearted among them as Asuka shrieked, "What the  _ hell!? _ "

 


	20. Dessicate

"Do yo dance, do yo dance, get yo mother mmphing dance on…"

"What are you doing?" Cooper stopped his bizarre little chant and glanced up at Misato. She was glowering over his station, her arms crossed, not unlike his mother when he was doing something she didn't approve of. This was, naturally, the expression his mother made more than any other.

"I'm…you know…doing my…doing my dance," he offered, feeling suddenly very small.

"Stop it," Misato snapped. "It's stuck in my head now, and if it stays there, I'm holding you responsible."

"It's just a dance song," Cooper said. "For dancing…."

"I swear to God," Misato hissed, making Cooper flinch. "Sync tests!"

"Sync tests!" he parroted, toggling out of the current simulation he was running and pulling up the document he had compiled on that very subject. "Right, so after all that with Samson and Grendel, I went back over the previous couple of tests on record, right? I also began running some probes into Grendel's hard drive by 'ghosting' the presence of a Pilot."

"'Ghosting?'" Misato asked, leaning against the console table.

"Yeah, it used to be just stuffing something with a pulse into a neural interface with Grendel. Used to be dogs. Now, I can simulate it by running an EKG pattern recorded off of Samson's brainwaves, pulse, all that. It's like removing the brain from the body, and then poking the areas that let it 'see' and 'smell.' So it's 'seeing' and 'smelling' in the absence of a body. Right?"

"…Sure," Misato said, somewhat following.

"So, that erratic pattern? Yeah, that's been there from as early as I can find. Started real bad, leveled out a bit, but never settled enough for the Grendel Project to be okay'd. Until, that is, when Samson was integrated into Grendel's neural network."

"So…what, he calmed it down? It was worse than this?'"

"Ah, no, actually," Cooper said, "He  _made_  it worse."

"Uh…huh?" Misato sat up and turned around, looking at the screen. She was starting to lose Cooper.

"Yeah, you can see a corollary pattern here. Ever since he became the Pilot, its sync rate has become more erratic. But, and here's the funny thing…Grendel is working at its peak efficiency, better than your Evas in terms of maximizing synchronization input/output. In  _spite_  of this little 'glitch' here."

"That…is very odd," Misato murmured.

"That is very odd," Cooper agreed. At that moment, Misato's phone rang in her coat pocket, and she answered it.

"Capt. Katsuragi, Nerv Operations…uh…hang on a minute," she murmured, stepping away from the bridge. She didn't make it ten paces before she stopped, and said in a shrill tone, "She did  _what_!?"

* * *

Rei sat with her hands folded on her lap, Shinji next to her. Toji stood with his arms crossed, and Kensuke bounced in a chair on the other side of the room. It was a small lounge adjacent to the main school office, and the sounds of administrative work issued from the other side of the door.

"This is unnecessary," she said in her normal, bland tone.

"Then tell us why you started crying," Toji said bluntly. She gazed at him, and he clamped his mouth shut. She was a creepy chick, and he had to look away. Kensuke looked between them, began to offer something, then thought the better of it. And then the thought vanished, and he offered it anyway.

"Maybe it's PTSD," he said, "You know, because you're a Pilot. You got, like, battle stress and stuff, and any day now, you're going to be doing martial arts in front of a mirror talking about how you miss the war."

"Kensuke, what the hell are you talking about?" Toji said, exasperated.

"I was trying to make a joke," he said, though now hearing it back, it sounded awful. "It's true, though. Maybe you have PTSD."

"Why would I have that?" Rei asked, blandly.

"Well…you have been through a lot," Shinji reasoned.

"So?"

"So…it tends to break you down."

"In what ways?" That was a question Shinji realized he was poorly equipped to answer. It forced him to look at himself for reference, and when he did, he didn't like it. It made him want to squirm and hide. He managed an answer as best he could.

"Emotions are like...a muscle," he reasoned. That sounded...correct. "They start to wear out when strained."

"Emotions are a hindrance, it seems," Rei reasoned. "The point of Piloting is to fight and to die, not to feel." Shinji blanched when she said that, and found he couldn't reply.

"Everyone feels, Rei. Even you," Toji said, not putting much thought into his words.

Rei stared at him for a moment, then glanced down at the floor. "This conversation is pointless." The door opened with a suddenness that Toji practically climbed the wall behind him, and everyone jerked up. Misato was standing in the doorway breathless, staring at Rei.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Nothing," Rei said.

"Rei started crying," Toji and Kensuke said as one.

"Nothing happened," Rei insisted, sounding peevish even though the tone and pitch of her voice didn't change.

"Crying?" Misato fixed her eyes on Shinji, and he swallowed.

"More like sobbing?" he answered, though the lilt made it sound like he was asking a question. He felt Rei stiffen next to him, and he immediately felt guilt.

"Sobbing…Rei was…." Misato seemed to blank, and then shook her head. "Okay, I'm not sure I know how to handle this. Rei, what…what were you…what caused…why was…?"

"It was nothing. I simply had a misunderstanding about something. It's gone now," Rei said. Shinji glanced at her hands, folded in her lap, and saw that she was digging the nails of one into the other. She was lying.

"Let's…I'm gonna take you home, Rei. Shinji, just go back to class. I've got it from here, okay? Thanks for calling."

"Sure, Misato," Shinji said.

As the boys filed out, Kensuke said, "Hope you feel better, Rei."

Toji nodded, adding, "No one in class will say anything. I'll make sure of that." Rei watched them leave in wonder, unsure of what to make of that.

* * *

Shinji separated from his friends and went to a water fountain. He felt empty, and just putting something,  _anything_  into his stomach might help. As he drank, he felt a presence next to him, and glanced up. Asuka was standing there, glowering with crossed arms.

"What the  _hell_  was that about?" she asked.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Who's gonna know?" she retorted. "What was the deal with Wonder Girl?"

"I don't know," Shinji admitted. "It was out of character, wasn't it?"

"Out of character? That's so helpful, I am glad you're here to explain this to me!" Asuka said hotly.

" _You_  asked  _me_ ," Shinji replied, matching her tone. "You left the classroom to find me and ask me. What do you want from me?" Asuka said nothing, her brows furrowed and her mouth set. "Rei…is probably under pressure," Shinji said patiently. "She probably just let it get to her. It could have happened to any of us." Asuka's face went ugly at the inference.

"Rei is weak," Asuka said, quietly. It seemed like she was trying to convince herself of that. Shinji stared at her for a moment, feeling that helplessness take hold, and then, slowly…it was replaced with anger. He was tired. Something in his soul seemed to start thumping, beating, like bleeding shins into cracked leather.  _Rei is weak_ ….

"So are you," he said in an ugly voice. Asuka whirled at him, her eyes wide in shock and hurt. Shinji turned and walked away without seeing what happened next. He did not go back to 2A.

* * *

In a dim room that overlooked the skyline of Chicago, a man smoked a sweet-smelling cigarillo, occasionally sucking through his teeth. His companion regarded the skyline, swirling a glass of brandy.

"The First Child had a breakdown, recently," the Drinking Man announced. "Just got the news. Sobbing fit." The Smoking Man chuckled.

"Poor little Mary," he murmured. "Where have her sheep gone?"

"The boy is having a better affect than we could have anticipated," his companion concluded. "The President and his cronies will be upset."

"They're bleeding hearts," the Smoking Man dismissed. "Trying to play nice with the neighbors, try to let the past be the past. There is no past." His voice dropped as he spoke, and he dragged at the cigarillo.

"They were never happy with using children as weapons," the Drinking Man added. "This may cause them to reel things in a bit."

"The problem with the President," the Smoking Man mused, "Is he is too 'Old America.' Trying to coddle the Japanese while going at Nerv. Huh…." He flicked ash in a derisive gesture. "They're no allies, only pieces on the board. We should never have given up that office."

"It was too public. The Committee made a sound decision," the Drinking Man said defensively. "They've also been uncertain with the nature of control on the boy. They're wondering if we should have seeded our people through the delegation."

"Our measures of control are enough," the Smoking Man countered. "I still think it was a bad idea to send Dr. Colin…he's tied to directly to us."

"There have been questions, though," the Drinking Man hissed, placing his glass on a side-table. "Questions asked about the boy. Questions from the top, and I am certain within the delegation."

"Let them ask questions, then. By the time they get answers, we'll have Adam and be all the stronger for it," the Smoking Man countered. "This isn't tactics, it's strategy. The short term looks awkward and messy, and it's supposed to. They're all scrambling to make all the random pieces fit."

"But they don't fit," the Drinking Man concluded, "So by the time they'll have anything to trace to us, we'll have achieved our goals. I know this, this is academic. I still don't like the variables."

"Every system has to have a little give in it, or it lacks tensile strength," his companion explained. "That's another reason why I don't like sending Colin…without him, the boy was unpredictable, but that wasn't a bad thing. Now, we can imagine exactly how he'll act. And that could be…."

"No, I understand. Perhaps we can just withdraw Colin at a key time."

"Perhaps…." For a moment, they sat in silence, regarding the bright lights of Chicago...the stubborn and powerful lines of its skyscrapers grabbing at the sky. "Seele is quite in the dark, isn't it?" the Smoking Man murmured. The Drinking Man made a soft, derisive sound in his throat.

"For the time being. They know we exist, of course. Not our purpose, though," he added, sipping the brandy. The Smoking Man shrugged.

"That's inevitable," he mumbled, tapping some ash into a tray. "What does Mr. Grave have to say on the issue?"

"He's done his best," the Drinking Man said diffidently. "The report to the Committee contained areas where possible leaks could have occurred, but he made sure they were airtight. He theorizes that Keel Lorenz just…deduced it."

"Just 'deduced' it and started sniffing around," the Smoking Man mumbled, then chuckled. "He couldn't have hoped to be discreet. He had to have known we are watching his organization."

"I'm sure he does," the Drinking Man reasoned, "Stir the water enough, though, and things rise to the surface. He will find us out. That's as certain as death."

"All death is uncertain," the Smoking Man grumbled, slouching down into his chair. "Do you think they'll move up the timetable for the HIP?"

"No. They have a playbook, I think. Probably these 'Dead Seas Scrolls' that have fluttered on the wind. We have time to commandeer it." They, too, had some access to the Scrolls, limited as it was. Mostly, it was what they could steal unnoticed from Seele's computer networks. They had seeded elements of the Scrolls in the reports to the public security apparatus in Washington: the names of the Angels, the implications that there was a _plan_ , and that someone somewhere somehow knew more than what they were saying.

That...perhaps...Second Impact was a little bit... _different_ than what the official reports said....

It was all just enough to get their appetite going. Enough to make Seele uncomfortable. That being said, the greater implications of Seele's plans, specific to the Human Instrumentality Committee, were generally known to the Group. Those, you just couldn't hide: they were too audacious. And, like all audacious plans, they had stirred up some controversy in the Group itself.

"Commandeer it? Ha! You mean _prevent_ it," the Smoking Man insisted.  "Extinction does not equal dominance."

"It may be more 'transcendence,'" the Drinking Man reasoned. "Immortality with a few key players running the show."

"That is voodoo," the Smoking Man said loudly. "Smoke and mirrors. Power,  _real_  power, is transient. You fight for it, you keep it, and then you die, and those you prepared come along and take your place. That is the cycle. That is the only way to get any movement out of it. Instrumentality? That's…torpid."

"This could become a fight in the Committee," the Drinking Man concluded. "There are those that think like you, and there are those that agree with me."

"We've had worse fights," the Smoking Man said dismissively. "This will be another one. The fact of the matter is that Instrumentality is a flawed concept with an uncertain outcome. The Group survives on certainty."

"True. True." The Drinking Man picked up his brandy. "In that case, why not kill the Children?"

"It wouldn't end the prospect, only extend the timetable," the Smoking Man explained. "Besides, they are a strategic resource. If we can appropriate them, that would be a best case outcome. Killing them would deny them to the enemy, but only in the short term. No, you need to give them something wounded. Something that they invest in, that becomes a millstone. A tainted reserve is better than a starving enemy."

"I'd prefer the starving enemy," the Drinking Man sighed. "You're better at these deductions than me, though."

"You're more ruthless," the Smoking Man said with a shrug. "When you choose to be."

"You say the kindest things," the Drinking Man chuckled. They sat there in the dark, letting the words float overhead, as they viewed the skyline, and over it, some hazy, half-forgotten future.


	21. Severance

Misato was halfway to Rei's home when her phone rang again. She glanced at it to see it was Ritsuko.

"Yeah, Ritz?"

"What's this about Rei crying in class today?" Misato felt an odd, creeping feeling at the question.

"And how would you know that?" Misato asked.

"Word just got to me. You didn't think that Rei could have a public meltdown and I wouldn't hear about it," Ritsuko said. "Where are you taking her?"

"I'm driving her home right now," Misato answered.  _How did you know I was taking her anywhere_? The timing and the nature of the call sounded an alarm bell in Misato's mind. She glanced over at Rei, who was gazing silently at the dashboard in front of her.

"Bring her to the GeoFront," Ritsuko said. "We need to find out what happened. If this sort of thing could happen on a mission."

"I think it would be better for her to go home and get some rest," Misato countered.

"You're not qualified to make a decision in this matter," Ritsuko said patiently. "Please bring her to the GeoFront." She hung up, and Misato blinked. She had to pull the car to the side of the road, lest she drift onto a sidewalk in her shock. She stared at the phone in her hand.

"Is something wrong?" Misato looked at Rei, who gazed back serenely.

"Nothing," Misato lied, "Nothing at all. They just want me to take you back to the GeoFront, is all." The girl's expression didn't change, but she visibly deflated. Misato put the phone in a cup-holder and cleared her throat. "What do you want, Rei?"

"What…do I…?" Rei seemed confused by the question.

"Would you like me to take you back to your apartment instead?" Rei looked back blankly.

"They said to take me to the GeoFront," she answered dumbly.

"Yes, but…do you want me to take you  _there_ , or to your apartment?" Misato pressed.

"I…was…they said to take me to the GeoFront," Rei insisted. Misato shook her head.

"Do you  _want_  to go to the GeoFront?"

"It's irrelevant," Rei answered. Misato felt trapped in that moment, but nodded and pulled back onto the road. The rest of the drive was silent, save for the brief check through security. Misato didn't have to drive far: Ritsuko was waiting at the entrance of the parking garage with a pair of Section Two men. Misato stopped the car in the middle of the road and exited.

"Two guys for one little girl, Ritz?" she asked, a sudden venom in her voice. Ritsuko gave her an odd look, and opened the door.

"Let's go, Rei," she said, and the girl obeyed. She got out, fell in between the two burly men, and exited the garage. Ritsuko lingered a moment. "Is something wrong, Misato?" she asked.

"You know," Misato said, tensely, "It would be a real friend who puts a bug in someone's phone." Ritsuko's expression did not change.

"That is an absurd thing to say," she replied after a moment, but Misato leaned over the car and glared with such vehemence that Ritsuko had to step back.

"What's going to happen when I get to my office, take my phone apart, and find a bug?"

"Isn't it possible that Section Two could have done it on the Commander's orders if you  _do_  find one?" Ritsuko said, "Or that maybe he's bugging all of us? You're being paranoid, Misato. I'm going to pretend this conversation didn't happen, as a friend. Get your head in order."

"Do not…ever…do that again. Because I  _will_  know," Misato snapped. Ritsuko made to ask what Misato meant, but there was no point. There was only so many ways she could bend the truth in one day, and Misato was not normal personnel. She knew things, and she knew people. Ritsuko turned and walked away without another word, and Misato stared after her. As she stared, a truck pulled up behind her car, unable to move past. When it was clear she wasn't going to move, it honked its horn. One look from her, though, and the truck began to back up and find another entrance.

It was then the phone rang in the cup-holder. She slid into the seat, and answered it with an angry, "What!?"

"C…Captain?" It was Maya Ibuki.

"What do you want?" she hissed.

"We…ma'am, we have an Angel."

* * *

The Bridge was tense as the video imagery played across the big board. The creature was roughly humanoid, with two legs and two arms. No head to speak of, it seemed. The video in question showed it hoisting a British Royal Naval missile cruiser in the air and cut it in half with an almost invisible burst from it's AT Field.

"A British task group was coming in for an allied resupply when the encountered the Angel as it attempted landfall. After this picture was taken, it then retreated back to the water," Ibuki was saying. "No reason why."

"Its behavior since then has been erratic," Hyuga added. "We've been tracking it with sonar and satellite imagery. It went out for two hours, and then it started pacing."

"Pacing?"

"Yeah. Just back and forth, back and forth. Advanced back towards us for about an hour, stopped…and there it is now." He tapped a few keys, and a satellite image came on screen. The satellite was directly over the position of the Angel when the image was captured, and its great, dark mass could be just perceived beneath the water.

"It destroyed a missile cruiser and two frigates," Ennis mumbled next to her. "Casualty reports are still coming in."

"Has an analysis been run on it, based on the attack?" Misato snapped at Aoba. He shook his head.

"It hasn't given us much to go on, besides its shape and the fact that it utilized a focused AT Field," he answered. "Still running projections."

"Where are the Pilots?" Misato asked.

"The Fourth Child is in his room gearing up," Cooper answered.

"The Third Child is on his way here, now. The First Child is in lock-down, and the Second Child is…." Ibuki sat up in her chair, pressing her ear-bud tighter. "Say again?" Misato glanced at the woman, a slow, creeping dread rising in her. Ibuki cleared her throat, and said, "Confirm that." She turned to Misato. "Second Child is…unknown. The school can't find her, and no one has seen her."

Misato didn't lose her temper. Instead, she just…sank. "Of course," she mumbled. It would be the sort of thing that would happen today. "Well…she's a red-haired white girl running around Tokyo-3 in a school uniform, how hard can she be to find? We only have…is it still stationary?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"We have an hour plus however long it stays there to find her," Misato sighed. "Contact the local police, put out a picture of her and tell them to bring her right here."

"Technically, her identity is classified. The local police wouldn't-" Aoba began.

"Aoba, do it or I will send you out there to find her yourself," Misato snarled. "Get Section Two involved, if it'll make you feel better, God  _damn_  it!" She rubbed her face, and glanced at Ennis. He was studying her patiently. "Sorry," she said. "I've had one of those days."

"We all get them," he said. "Some more than most."

"Sir," Cooper said, glancing over his shoulder. "Dr. Colin is demanding to speak with you."

"As I was saying," Ennis added with a rueful smile. "Cooper, what the hell is he bothering me for now?"

"I have no clue and do not wish to get involved at this time, sir!" Cooper said in a sharp, parade-ground voice. Ennis bared his teeth and marched over to the console. Misato glanced up to see that Fuyutsuki and the Commander were in the midst of a quiet conference between themselves.

"Commander," she said, and both turned to look at her. "Grendel is ready now, Unit One will be ready shortly. If the Angel moves, we'll have at least an hour before landfall. Your instructions?"

* * *

Gendo gazed levelly at the Captain, who stared right back at him. He had overheard the conversation below, and in fact, he and Fuyutsuki had been discussing just that issue. The First Child was…he tasted bile at the thought, and pushed that aside for the moment. Best not to deal with that now.

The Second Child, though…that was odd. Abducted? No, probably not. It was possible, just not probable. Either way, she wasn't here. That left the Third Child and…the American.

"Sir?" Fuyutsuki asked, lending his support to Misato's question.

"Prepare Unit One," he said, "Grendel will be placed on reserve."

"Maybe we should deploy the American Eva to offer on-field support?" Misato suggested.

"Reserve," he said again, flatly. Misato crossed her arms, looked as though she wanted to say more, but turned towards her staff.

"Grendel on reserve!" she snapped, "Unit One will be prepped for launch. Have Third Child suited and in place as soon as he's on site."

* * *

Shinji tasted the copper-blood tang of the LCL, gripped the butterfly controls in limp fingers, and gazed out towards the water. He was alone up here, and it was his fault.

"Where's Asuka?" he had asked as he was hustled through the tunnels.

"The Second Child is missing," the technicians had said. He had asked for Rei, but she was out of communication. He asked about Samson, but he was being kept on standby below ground.

He was it, and it was his fault. It was his fault, because Asuka was missing and he knew why.

_Rei is weak._

_So are you._

If Shinji could hate anything more than himself, he didn't know what it was. Maybe his father…but in that moment…he really hated himself. The hate and the loathing almost overpowered the rising fear that he was alone, up here. Alone and waiting to fight, and probably die at his father's behest.

_Rei is weak._

_So are you._

He didn't know why he had said that, but it was said and it was done. It was done. It was then his comm channel winked...a line from Grendel. He answered it. "Samps?" he asked.

"Hey, brother," came the reply. Samps was in his full-rigging, face hidden beneath the encompassing neural helmet. "You ready to do your thing?" Shinji looked down and away, afraid and embarrassed. "Hey, what's that? You're not scared, are you?"

"I'm…alone…." he mumbled. "I don't know if…"

"Yeah, I heard. The Kraut let you down, didn't she?" Shinji bit his lip, tasting blood. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Second Child let you down. She's not here right now, is she? I don't know why, I'm not gonna judge, but I remember telling you…that when the chips were down…."

"It's my fault!" Shinji protested, feeling his eyes prick. "I said something…just…it's my fault! It's my fault, okay?"

"Shinji…brother," Samson said in a gentle voice, "I didn't mean to push a button. You're a good guy to stick up for her. You were a good guy when you jumped in the fire for her back at the volcano. I just wish she'd be here to back your play."

"Where are _you_?" Shinji asked bitterly. He regretted the tone immediately, knowing he said it defensively. For him, and for Asuka. Samson didn't deserve to be on the end of that venom. To his surprise, and mild relief, Samson chuckled, rolling languidly in his wiring.

"I'm right below you. Give the word, and I'll ride."

"…Thanks," Shinji whispered.

"I said I would back you, and I'll back you," Samson said. "Blood and sinew, tooth and bone. We're Pilots, right?" In that moment, Shinji found himself very grateful for Samson.

Another channel blinked. He opened it, and Misato was leaning forward. She was all business in that moment, and her look was intimidating.  _Blood and sinew…tooth and bone…_ Shinji felt blood rise to his face, and his chest ached. Something burned in him…something much like desire. Ambition.

Rage.

"Shinji? Everything okay up there?" she asked.

"Everything is fine," he said coolly. "Where's the Angel?"

Misato gave him an odd look, and then continued. "It started moving. We have one hour and thirteen minutes before landfall. Uploading the projected coordinates to you. Get ready to move out." Shinji studied the map, and glanced around. Most of the structures of Tokyo-3 were still up, but could be dropped to give him maneuvering room.  _Give the word, and I'll ride_.

"No," he said, and Misato scrunched her eyes.

"Shinji, we do  _not_  have time for this," she said. "I don't want to hear you com-"

"I have more room to maneuver here," he said, "Just drop the rest of the city. I can take it here, but I need a place to fight." Misato stared at him in silence, not expecting what he had just said...the almost _resolve_ with which he said it. He stared back, and thought he detected something in her eyes. Was it dread? He couldn't tell, because the emotion slipped by before he could hammer it.

"Okay. All right, fine. We'll issue the general alert and drop the city," she said. "Good luck, Pilot." The line blinked off, and he exhaled. The sound of crickets chirping came to him, and he realized the line with Samson had been open the whole time.

"My man," the boy said in wonder, "That was something, Shinji. Truth be told, you have a better tactical advantage at water's edge, but…yeah…that was some sand. Nicely done." Shinji swallowed, looked back up, and, very carefully, smiled.

* * *

Asuka had broken all the bottles she could find, and had decided instead to start pulling plants out by the roots. Her fingers were soon covered in a thick layer of dirt, and the grime pushed up under her fingernails. It hurt, but she didn't stop. She scrabbled at the earth, digging with both hands, just wanting to tear, to rip, to rend. Her thumb caught a rock, and the nail tore, and she ripped both hands back to her. She wound them into her hair, pulling, cutting her scalp with the nails and mingling dirt into her locks. She gritted her teeth so hard she was sure they would break.

_Rei is weak._

_So are you_.

She didn't think she was capable of being hurt as badly as those words had cut her in that moment. She didn't know why they hurt, or why it should be Shinji of all people saying it that caused the most pain. But it was there. She hurt. She ached. She raged. She raged, because in the moment he said it, the way he said it, she _knew_.

It was true. She was weak. She was weak, weak, weak, filthy weak. She openly sobbed at it, hating Shinji, hating herself, hating it. Hating that he made her feel weak, and hating herself for believing it. It was such a simple phrase, but one with such truth she couldn't ignore it.  _So…are…you._

In time, Asuka ceased her bawling. She snuffled, staring at the muddy cuts in her hand, how thoroughly she had ruined her nails. She glanced around, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

"I have no idea where I am," she mumbled to no one in particular. There were trees, and grass, and that was her only point of reference. Standing up, she turned and saw a railing behind her. She was at a park. How she got here, she couldn't say. It had all been a haze of angry, self-loathing and pain on the way over here. She didn't have a watch, didn't even have a phone. It occurred to her that if something happened, no one could contact her. Snuffling, feeling numb, she got to her feet. What if Kaji needed to find her? This was dumb.

Shuffling up to the railing, she followed it downhill until she came to a cut in the trees, and stopped. She heard sirens, and could see Tokyo-3 stretched out before her. The buildings were beginning to drop.

And there stood Shinji.

It was Unit One, which meant that it was Shinji. Did that mean an Angel was coming? There was a battle coming, and she was here! She should be down there! Asuka got ready to run, but the urge died before she lifted a foot.

She was weak.

Something warred in her chest, the urge to go and the urge to disappear. She felt herself squirm, and she whined in frustration. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to do, and she wanted Kaji to tell her.

 _You always knew what to do!_   _Why can't you decide now!?_  She took two steps, just up to the edge of a winding path of stairs leading down the hill. She shuffled, she stopped…and she sat down.

Asuka sat and did not move, studying the form of Unit One through grimy eyes.


	22. Blood and Sinew

The hour came and the hour went.

Shinji spent the time listening to Samson, examining the battle space and attuning himself to it as best he could. Samson called it "setting the ground."

"You have to prepare the killing space," he explained. "You don't lie and wait for the enemy, you make the ground ready for him. Even if it is as simple as deciding where you will stand to face him. Know the ground, and you will know the enemy, for he who controls the earth shall conquer the heavens." It was awkward going, and Shinji felt his nerves beat raw as he did so. He didn't understand much of it, but he tried, and soon, he felt comfortable. Comfortable with the lay of the land, the arrangement of the space he stood in. He remembered that he had been afraid many times, but he had killed Angels. He had killed them, and he was still alive. He felt less afraid.

At thirty minutes in, he requested the Pallet Gun.

"Do you want barriers, as well?" Misato asked.

"No," Shinji said. "Not this time."

"That's tactically unsound," Samson warned.

"I don't need them," Shinji insisted. He didn't want to hide. He didn't want to hide, because that would be running. He wanted to run, and he would not let himself run.

All that was left was to wait. At times, the remaining half-hour crept like an insect, but at others, it felt too swift. He kicked the crash-couch with the heel of his right foot, felt his teeth chatter from the adrenaline. Soon...soon...softly...softly….

"Angel inbound," Maya said quietly. On cue, the water in the distance began to boil as the bulk of the creature came closer. "Landfall imminent."

"Still on standby," Samson said. Slowly, almost serenely, the fear began to fade. The tremors stopped. He wasn't alone. He nodded to himself, to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Yes...he had fought the Angels, and he had won each time. He could win again. He  _would_  win again.

He clicked forward, focusing the eyes of the Eva onto the boiling point until it filled the whole of his view. The great, gray bulk of the Angel pierced the surface like pus from a sore, water glistening from the hulk. It had no head, giving it the appearance of being hunched. Within the featureless plane between it's shoulders, a mouth appeared, with two rows of perfect, almost human teeth. They split, and a single, fat eye pushed between the rows, jerking left, right, then up, taking in the world. He shuddered in disgust at the movements. The teeth, the eye, they looked human. It was revolting.

"I think it sees me," he said, when the eye stopped on him and seemed to focus. It began to stride forward, swinging its arms. The limbs ended on hands that curved up like meat-hooks. The muscles rippled under the skin, and seemed to expand.

"Its speed is increasing," Misato warned, and sure enough it leaned forward, loping into a sprint that seemed far too fast for its mass.

"You should welcome it," Samson teased. Shinji raised the Pallet Gun and fired a long, steady burst. The earth exploded around the Angel, and the oversized shells shattered against the AT Field. It flattened itself against the ground, and began to scrabble forward like an insect.

"Short bursts, brother," Samson warned. "Short bursts." Shinji took his advice, and the rounds connected against the Angel's central area with much more regularity. It squirmed right, then left, closing, closing.

"Move, Shinji!" Misato screamed, and Shinji  _leaped_.

The Angel burst over the ground, and time seemed to slow. For a moment, it seemed frozen spread-eagle below him. The Pallet Gun bore down on it, and there was no AT Field to halt them. It was a short burst, but a solid one, and the Angel's upper half went squirming one way while the lower half bounced along the ground. Unit One landed in a crouch, weapon up and ready.

The Angel moved with amazing speed, pirouetting on a hand and hurling itself against Unit One. The force of the impact shattered the Pallet Gun, and Shinji's view was filled with the baleful eye.

"Shinji, the other half…its regenerating!" Misato warned. "Its forming a second core. You have to dispatch this one now, before you're outmaneuvered." As she spoke, the teeth closed around the eye. When they opened again, a great, slavering tongue whipped out, twisted like taffy, and reforming in the shape of a drill. On instinct, Shinji willed one of his Eva's hands against the "chin" of the Angel and pushed back. He was stuck, now. He couldn't release either hand to retrieve his Progressive Knife without risking the drill, and the Angel was getting  _stronger_  if that was possible.

"I'm deploying," Samson announced. Shinji didn't hear him. He was in his own world, now, one that was turning red.

* * *

Asuka hugged her legs. Shinji was doing well for himself, it seemed. Of course he would be. The natural talent…her nose crinkled in a sudden wave of loathing, but of who, she couldn't decide. 

_I should_ be  _down there…._

But you aren't.

The earth below her heaved again as Unit One rolled over, putting itself on top of the Angel. The disconnected half was squirming and twisting, growing and sprouting a thin, sickly arm.

"Hurry up, Baka," she murmured, "Wasting time." There was a wail of warning alarms, and a new hatch opened half a kilometer away from the struggle. With a roar of pneumatic catapults, Grendel appeared, with a suddenness that made it look as if it had materialized from nowhere. Immediately, it twisted and crouched, and then somersaulted in a great leap towards the newly formed Angel. The creature seemed to detect the new threat, and slithered away just before Grendel's feet slammed down on the spot where it had been. The earth bucked once more, and Asuka had to grab the stair railing to keep from being thrown. Like an ape, Grendel raised both arms above its head and pounded down where the Angel was, but it was gone again, desperately avoiding battle until it had a form sufficient to fight in. It hobbled up on its legs, a pseudo-torso pushing the one gangly arm up as it squirmed into its new shape.

In that moment, Grendel became the center of a small star-burst of missiles and high-powered weapon discharges. The new Angel shrieked, trying to flee from the storm of shrapnel and heat. Grendel stalked it, deliberate and uncaring, emptying its weapon bays into the beast as its AT Field struggled to keep integrity. Asuka still despised the graceless gait of the Grendel Eva, the lack of art to it, but she couldn't deny the…power. The awful heat of the weaponry could be felt even here, baking the pores of her skin and making her sweat. She wondered if she was too close, if shrapnel or even a whole round could come whipping this direction and turn her into a red, greasy smear. She was rooted to the spot, unable to move, and the fear of that moment lingered with her. It seemed inevitable. That that would be the way that Asuka Langley Soryu ended.

Grendel closed the distance through the storm of smoke it had generated, and groped for the Angel. The moment did not come, as Grendel instead collided with the AT Field. The whole field, visible now from the friction and heat pressed against it, warped inward, like melting glass. The Angel's arm was now fully grown, and a second one was attempting to burst into existence when the field finally warbled, bucked, and snapped, unable to take the pressure of Grendel's own AT Field and its raw, physical assault. Both hands snapped forward onto the Angel, driving it to the ground. The last of the Eva's munitions were expelled at point blank range, with a thunder that forced Asuka to grip her head. Even with her hands clamped firmly against her ears, the sound was far too loud, and she screamed from the agony of it. The sound ceased, though its echoes lingered in the girl's skull as she tried to stand, and instead tripped and stumbled down the concrete stairs before coming to a stop, her chin cut and her knees and elbows bloody.

She pushed up on her hands, and turned back towards the battle. Through the smoke, she could see the shape of Grendel pawing at the remains of the Angel, the shadow like a great god pushing up from the soul of the world and ready to be born. Just beyond, Eva One had found its purchase, and had dug its fingers deep into the Angel's flesh.

It began to  _peel_ , tearing the Angel down the middle with an oily rip. The Eva wailed in triumph, and tossed the pieces in two directions. Both of them were squirming, still fighting. With a loud hiss and burst of steam, the Progressive Knife deployed, and Unit One loped after one of the pieces, hunting for the exposed core. Grendel flew from the smoke to pounce on the other piece, punching and kicking. Like Unit Two, Grendel's head was encased in an all-concealing helmet of armor, and the jaws were latched shut. It couldn't bite, but drove its head deep into the body of the almost-Angel, as though it was attempting to eat it.

In that moment, Asuka felt a chill of revulsion. The Evas…did things, generally of their own accord. She hated to admit it, and would only admit it to herself, but being an Eva Pilot was less about driving an Eva and more about _directing_ it…being the little Ego that gave the Id its target, and sat back. It made the Pilot less of a  _pilot_ , and not so much a handler…merely a compass. She would never say that to anyone, arguing that it required skill and natural talent. And this was, of course, true.

It was also true that an Eva could do whatever it felt like when driven by the Pilot's desires...and sometimes not. So when an Eva savaged an Angel like Unit One was doing now, it wasn't so much the Pilot, as it was the Eva behaving as the Pilot desired. Grendel, however….

Grendel was slaved to Samson. What she saw was not Grendel, it  _was_  Samson. It was the boy who was lost in the glee of the slaughter and the blood. She envied him for it, and that disgusted her even more.

A great, sucking sound scrabbled at the air, and Grendel raised a fist with a piece of the new Angel's core twisted into the fingers. The third almost-Angel died, but Grendel continued to pound it, pulverizing the limp and dead flesh with each blow. Unit One had pinned the struggling "original" Angel, and was slinging the Progressive Knife down, over and over, cracking the core until finally bursting it. A lake's worth of LCL washed over the ground, staining the knife and the knees of Unit One. It stood, picking up the Angel, and began to spin, like a discus thrower. It released the corpse, launching it through the air and out towards the ocean. And then it roared.

It twisted into Asuka's brain, a sound of primal glee and gluttony. It was a language she understood better than most, but at the moment, it felt as though the dialect was new. That this was a sound denied to her, and in truth it was. Unit One had defeated the Angel, and Grendel had offered support by defeating  _two_  clones. They didn't need Unit Two. There wasn't a risk of being replaced, it had  _just happened_. She felt a twisting morsel of hate in her stomach, and she stood and began to stumble down the stairs, the blood seeping down her legs to stain her socks.

* * *

The world seemed to lose color for a moment, and the sound of Misato's voice brought Shinji back.

"Good job, Shinji! That was fantastic!" She was unable to keep the glee and excitement out of her voice, and as Shinji turned to survey the remains of the battle, he found it infectious. This had not been a battle, it had been a massacre, and he was the gory victor.

Grendel delivered one last blow to the carcass it held, and finally stood, runty to Unit One but no less triumphant. Samson had successfully dispatched the two pieces in record time before they could grow into new Angels, giving Shinji the time necessary to destroy the primary core. There had been a unity to their purpose that Shinji found liberating, powerful. None of the ego and tension that fighting alongside Asuka brought. This had been pure, unsullied.

Samson's channel pinged, and Shinji opened it. "We're left standing," Samson observed.

"Yeah…yeah, we are," Shinji replied, in wonder.

"How does it feel, then?"

"What do you mean?"

Samson pointed, and when he did, Grendel's arm followed, encompassing the smoke and haze and mountains of lifeless meat. "Pure victory. The most natural state a human can be in, having cast his opponent down to the earth. You either kick ass or kiss ass. What was done here, eh?"

"We kicked ass," Shinji said, feeling good. Feeling better than good.

Invincible. He couldn't die. He  _wouldn't_  die.

"You did, brother," Samson said, crouching down to grab the remains at his feet and standing to hurl them into the great pillar of smoke where the other piece lay. "You're the rudder. That's what Pilot means, you know? Rudder. Steer what you will, young man." Samson began to giggle, and Shinji didn't know why, but he did, as well. The relief of the end, the exultant speed of it, the joy of…tearing….

Somewhere, inside, Shinji felt sick, but he didn't know why.


	23. Food For Words

Watching Samson eat was a strange and fascinating sight. The boy had ordered five twenty-ounce steaks, all so undercooked as to be raw, and was steadily working his way through each of them. He had already consumed two, and didn't show any signs of slowing. Nor did he chew, seeming to swallow each piece he placed in his mouth whole, with a few cursory nibbles.

"Trigger discipline is essential to dealing with an opponent at range," he was saying. "You want tight shot groups, and that is earned by controlling the recoil. Short, controlled bursts. Don't trust the strength of an Eva or vehicle to keep the recoil in check. Are you gonna eat that?" Shinji blinked, and looked down at his own dinner, an American-style hamburger with French fries.

"Um…no. My stomach's kind of bothering me," he mumbled, smiling sheepishly. He didn't know if it was from Samson's own eating, or if it was something in the fight, but he felt sick. The thought of food made him feel more sick, but Samson had insisted on buying a victory meal. Shinji picked the first thing on the menu without putting much thought into it just to appease him.

"Shouldn't have ordered it. It'll go to waste," Samson said, speaking as he swallowed. Shinji wondered if he should say something, lest the other boy end up choking. "Still, fire discipline aside, well done. I thought you'd be a good Pilot to back, and I was right. My instincts never fail on these things."

"Thanks," Shinji mumbled, and in truth, he was grateful. It wasn't the first time he had gone into combat knowing he would win. The last active battle he had had with Asuka had, to a certain point, carried the predicted, confident stride of inevitable victory. So long as they played the game, they could not fail. This time, though, the dynamic had been different. Victory was not assured…but he knew he would win.

He piddled with his fries, rolling them between his finger tips. Did he truly know he would succeed? On reflection, it occurred to him that he honestly had no clue whether he would win or lose. In fact, he was very certain he was going to die. Then what was the difference? Samson continued to pontificate on strategy and sound battle tactics as Shinji tuned him out, focusing on his emotions in that fight. It occurred to him that he had actually thought he would die when the battle started. Thought it…and didn't care. Or, more appropriately, cared about something more.

Fighting.

It was as if the fear of the consequences had been submerged if not eliminated, for the greater joy of destruction. Was this what Asuka felt when she fought? It was an odd sensation. He always Piloted an Eva because someone had told him to. Misato. His father. Everyone. Today though…he had Piloted for himself. He had fought not because he had to.

Because he _wanted_ to. And he enjoyed it. The adrenaline. The speed. The thunder of the Pallet Gun, the rush of the charge, the tearing…the tearing…the stabbing….

The nausea returned. He realized that Samson had stopped talking, and he glimpsed up. The other boy's expression was flat. "You look green in the gills, brother," Samson said.

"Just…I think I've got a bug, or something. My stomach is…," Shinji mumbled, then trailed off. Samson smiled, and that made Shinji feel small.

"You've got something, you have," Samson said, starting his fourth steak.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's fun, isn't it?" Samson said cutting a large piece. "Just diving right in, running on instinct. Every human has this piece of the bush in them, you see? That little piece left over from our monkey days, or whatever. That animal side, right before we figured out how to smash the big cats with rocks and take down our prey with sharp sticks. When all it was was fists and teeth and hate." Shinji was mesmerized by the way Samson was cutting the steak, each slice almost surgical. Something about the way Samson sliced and ate reminded Shinji of a lizard.

"That little monkey part of our brain is a bloody one, brother. Full of bad thoughts and bad drives, you know. That darkness is a friend when you let it out at the right times. It's that little animal part that tells you when to run and when to fight. When it tells you to fight…it tells you to win. You don't… _never_ …want to take that drive away." Shinji nodded cautiously, and carefully. In the past conversation, Samson had changed his manner of speaking at least three times. Always lazy and confident, but the grammar choices, the syntax, even the accent…it seemed to drift back and forth. At times, it was hard to follow.

The words held a special ring for Shinji, though. There was an undeniable truth to them, a resonance that seemed to ring inside the hollow parts of his brain and echo back from the soul. "When it tells you to fight…it tells you to win…," Shinji mumbled.

Samson slurped down the last bite, a dribble of red grease on his chin. He ignored it, and continued into the remaining steak. He consumed it with vigor as Shinji felt his gaze be pulled outside, to the people of Tokyo-3 as they went about their daily lives, in the shadow of extinction. What differentiated the human part of the brain from the animal part? Was reason and logic as truly monumental as they seemed to be, or simply different words and drives for instinct? Were they simply slaves to emotions, as all things were?

Were these emotions he was troubled with so often…he felt his head drop. Was emotion what made man an animal? If that was the case, was it the thing that saved him or the thing that damned him? He glanced up at Samson reveling in the last barely-cooked steak. He seemed more of a beast in this one moment, but it was undeniable that he had power over his environment. He moved when he felt like moving, fought because he loved it, and won because he was good. Was he a slave to emotion, or master of it?

The other boy began snapping his fingers, calling over a cute, young waitress. Her expression at being summoned in that manner was one of disgust, but as she got closer to Samson, her face became a mask of wooden politeness. Samson produced a card and handed it to her. He smiled, but the eyes were cold.

"My check, please," he said. It took her a moment to reach out and take the card, as though it was a snake waiting to bite. Shinji could detect waves of unease radiating from her, such that she didn't even notice he was sitting there. He glanced at Samson, who continued to study the girl in a way that concerned Shinji…not because it was a threatening gaze, but because he himself didn't feel threatened by it. Was he truly that bad at reading people, or had he just become so benumbed to Samson that this stuff didn't register with him?

_Maybe this is how you want to be_ , a part of his mind accused him, in a voice that sounded like Misato's. He felt his cheeks flush. Sometimes, he wanted people to just  _stop_ …stop being, stop existing, stop, stop, stop. Did he want those people to hate him? Fear him? As they seemed to hate and fear...Samson?

As the girl returned with the check, three men had followed her to the table. She glanced up at them, and visibly trembling, made a quick exit to the bar where she could find safety in numbers. The men were Americans, and while their clothing was civilian, their haircuts were not. Samson lounged back, watching them in snide amusement.

"Captain," the tallest of the three said in English. Shinji listened quietly to the rest of the conversation, understanding it but not all of the metaphors.

"Come to fetch me back before midnight?" Samson asked, cocking an eyebrow. "That's good, you know. I might turn into a pumpkin. Then where would you be at?"

"We're simply to provide an escort for the remainder of your evening," came the reply. "You know you're a strategic asset."

"I have to be chaperoned, you see," Samson said to Shinji, switching abruptly to Japanese. "They don't want their Pilot wandering off and getting run over, or something. Take me home, boys."

"Sir?"

"You found me because I paid the bill with my stipend card. I knew you guys would find me that way, and I'm tired. Take me home and my friend here back to his apartment." The three men glanced at each other, uncertain of what to do. Samson drove their decision by standing up and walking towards the door. "You only brought one vehicle, right? You two will ride with me on the tram. You, the lazy-eyed bastard, you drive Mr. Ikari home. Have a good one, Shinji. Enjoyed the talk." Samson waved lazily as he exited. Two of the mooks hustled to catch up, falling in on either side and tossing a set of keys to the one who remained. He glanced at Shinji, but said nothing.

Shinji watched as the other boy and his escort left. He looked up at the soldier who remained.

"Where to?" the man asked. That was a good question, Shinji thought.

* * *

"Keep me informed," Kaji said on the phone. "The minute you find her, understand?"

"We will," Misato said. "Did you get…whatever you needed sorted out?"

"No, I didn't," he grated. "But I'm closer. I'll tell you about it over drinks." There was a silence on the other end. The words were flirtatious, but the tone was not.

"We  _will_  find her," Misato said. Kaji stepped out of his car and glanced up at his apartment building. He would go in, change his clothes, grab an energy drink, and hit the bricks again. No sleep until Asuka was found.

"I know," he mumbled. "I'm…just tired."

"I'll say," Misato replied. "Keep this up and I might think you actually care for the kid." Kaji rolled his eyes. He generally made no fuss at all about Asuka, and there was a reason for that. A man was not stone, though, and you hammer him enough, he would bleed. There had been a lot to process in the last few weeks.

"And what about your charge, Mommy Misato?" he asked, entering the lobby.

"Found at a restaurant, with Samson, by American MPs," she said, less than enthusiastic. Shinji had disappeared almost immediately after the battle, having taken the time to change out of his Plug Suit and that was it. Misato suspected he had an idea where Asuka was, or why she had disappeared, but she hadn't the time to interrogate him on it. When contacted by the Americans and asked where she wanted him deposited, she said send him home. "Can I ground him? That _is_ in my rights, right?"

"Damned if I know," Kaji mumbled, stepping onto the elevator. "I'll call you in five."

"Right," she said, and hung up. He tapped the button for his floor, and rode up in silence. He had been trying to peel the minds of his contacts in intelligence for more about the Americans, and the only thing they could provide were items on the delegation. As for Samson,  _nothing_! The Grendel Eva,  _nothing_! A spy with no information was something like a fish with no fins, waiting for bigger fish to come and gobble him down. What Kaji needed was information, and he was dying from lack of it.

The elevator door opened, and he made his way down the hallway, turning the corner, and slowing to a stop as he made out the huddled shape pressed against his door. Even with her head down and huddled into her knees, the shock of red hair told him it was Asuka. He waited for a moment, taking it in. Her shirt was dirty, the nails of the hand he could see were broken, bloody, and caked with mud. Her knees were cut and scabbed. She looked very much like a house cat that had learned the outside world was not so much fun, and that it was time to come home.

He nodded, and said, "There was an attack today, you know." She looked up at him, and snuffled. They held each other's gaze for a moment more. "What happened?"

"...I fell."

"I noticed," Kaji agreed. There was something that changed in the gaze, and Kaji felt a distinct heat on the back of his neck. He felt truly uncomfortable in that moment.

"I need to clean up," she said. "Can I use your bathroom?" He smiled, good-natured and relaxed. It was his defense mechanism against trouble.

"Let's take you home," Kaji offered.

"I'm all muddy and covered in blood," Asuka insisted. "I can't go home like this."

"It would be better if you did," he said patiently. "Misato is worried about you." She grimaced, and shook her head.

"I…I don't need to go back there," she said. "They don't…have…they're all…." Asuka trailed off into mumbling.

"Want to try that again?" Kaji ventured. Asuka couldn't look at him for a moment, glancing away nervously. Uncurling from her position, she leaned over and gave him a very adult look.

" _Pleeeeease_ can I come in?" she asked, with a hint of a whine.

"Stop that!" The words were sharp, and Asuka flinched as if cold water had splashed her face. "Get off the floor and come here," Kaji continued, his words barely concealing disgust and anger. Looking hurt and ashamed, Asuka picked herself up and very slowly crossed the hall to him. Kaji leaned over, enough to remind her of how much taller he was, not enough to break the height difference. He stuck a finger in her face and said, "You will never… _never_ …do that to me again. Is that clear?" It was the sharpest tone he had ever spoken to her with.

"Ye…ye…yes, sir," she whispered, staring at his shoes. He straightened, and made a vague gesture towards the elevator.

"I'm taking you back to Misato's apartment," he said. "Walk." She began to weave down the hallway, unsteady but in the general direction he wanted. He pulled out his phone and realized his hand was trembling. He gave it a moment to relax, and texted Misato.

ASUKA FND, CALL OFF SRCH. WILL B AT YR PLC

He sent the message, and followed the girl.

* * *

The drive back was in silence, as Kaji probed his own fury and disgust. Up until this point, he generally treated Asuka's affections and clingy attention as mild or childish. As such, he ignored them. When they mounted in aggression, he continued to ignore them, deflecting their energies elsewhere or just waiting until Asuka got distracted by something else, as she often did. What had happened just now, though, had rocked him to his core. There was nothing innocent about what had happened, and it had angered him immensely.

Even more so was that it was clear Asuka had an  _idea_  of what she was trying to do, but no real  _concept._  He didn't know where she had gotten the notion to behave like  _that_ , but it was clear she had never actually done it before: it was too uneven, too ragged, too held back. Which meant that if she was attempting it  _now…._

He glanced at her. Her head was down, and her hair was over her face. There were too many things to sort out with this, beyond the fact that she had finally crossed the line, and he had probably not handled it in the best manner. Regardless, he was not about to apologize. Then she would think that what she had done  _was_  in fact okay, and he wasn't going to give her that possible assumption.

They pulled into the parking lot at Misato's complex, and he got out and opened the door for her. Slowly, she exited the vehicle. She had been crying, but Kaji made no mention of it. They both walked up to the apartment, and Kaji knocked on the door. There was a moment when he was unsure anyone would answer, and then the door opened and Shinji stood there with his headphones on his neck and the S-DAT player in hand. His eyes widened in shock as he took in Asuka, still in a state of general pitifulness. She looked at him, a moment of shock and misery crossing her face. As quickly as it had been there, the expression vanished, and turned into one of defiant rage. She pushed past him, driving him back with her hand, to go stomping into the apartment without taking off her shoes. Shinji watched her go, and then turned back and looked at Kaji helplessly.

"She's your problem now," Kaji said, his features again in that mask of the relaxed grin. "Call if she's too much to handle." He turned to leave and was about ten steps away when he heard Shinji call after him. He turned and regarded the boy.

Shinji, for his part, had been aghast at the sight of Asuka. Her hair was messy, her clothes were torn and filthy, she was covered in  _blood_ …and for a moment, he saw her as truly hurt, and truly…weak. And it didn't disgust him, it terrified him. Before he could latch onto it, the moment had passed, and Asuka gave him a chilling look, and barreled past him. It was a lot to process, and he didn't want Kaji to leave without confessing.

"It's my fault," he said, as the man looked at him. Something about Kaji had always set him at ease, despite the few brief encounters between the two. He had an air of acceptability around him…as though regardless of who Shinji was or what he did, Kaji would still be Kaji, and Shinji would be okay by him. He swallowed, afraid he might be saying the one thing Kaji would not understand.

"What's your fault?" Kaji asked.

"I…called her weak," Shinji said. "She said something cruel about Rei, so I…I said Asuka was weak. I told it to her face." Kaji pondered this, rocking on his heels.

"That's a big deal," he admitted. "A big deal. She wouldn't take that lightly, but interesting this is how she behaves when  _you_  say it…."

"What does that mean?" Shinji asked carefully.

"It's not enough," Kaji continued, bypassing the question, "to say you're sorry. And you  _are_  sorry, right?"

Shinji would have normally tittered around that: 'I guess so.' 'Maybe.' 'Kind of.' There was no hesitation when he firmly answered, "Yes."

"Good. Now, Shinji," Kaji turned towards him and held his hand up as if he was gripping a sphere. "With women, simply  _saying_  you're sorry is pointless. That's words, words mean  _nothing_. You have to  _show_  them you're sorry. Actions always mean a lot more to a woman than words."

"Show her…I'm sorry? How am I supposed to do that?" he asked, helplessly.

"You have to figure that out," Kaji said. "I don't know what it is she likes you to do. There is something _you_ do that means something to her, so you'll have to figure out what that is. I'll leave you to it." He waved, spun on his heel, and vanished, leaving Shinji in the doorway as the S-DAT player finished the song and began to rewind.

 


End file.
